Love Game
by HalfwayFlawless
Summary: We both had game pieces. His dice, my bishop. They belonged to separate games. His required luck, mine required skill. Love requires skill and a bit of luck. That's what we were playing:a love game. And as I thought about it, I realized it was my move.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey guys! This is my first Inception fic. I've loved the Arthur/Ariadne pairing from the first time I saw that kiss! Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Inception. The brilliant genius, Christopher Nolan, does.

As I stood by the baggage claim, looking for my nondescript suitcase, I couldn't help but think I could feel eyes on my back. I dared myself not to turn around and kept my eyes fixed on the silver but scuffed conveyor belt in front of me.

So many thoughts ran through my mind. I felt a bit out of it and off balance, but that was probably a side effect of just having escaped Limbo. Limbo…raw dream space.

It was a paradise and a prison. It was pure creation at its finest. It was a trap and unsolvable maze. I could see the appeal it had to someone like Mal… someone like me. But that desire to stay there is what eventually got her trapped down there. I forced all thoughts of the place with crumbling buildings and white sand beaches out of my mind.

But all the intrigue Limbo had could not amount to the wonder that I felt toward the memory that I remembered, and enjoyed, the most. Every time I closed my eyes, even to blink, it was like the memory of his soft lips brushing mine was burned onto the insides of my eye lids. As hard as I tried to think about other things, it always seemed to pop up.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see our charming forger make his way out one of the many automatically opening doors and melt away into the crowd. It felt strange to not offer a good-bye smile or even make eye contact.

We were all under strict orders that, for safety reasons, we were not to make contact with anyone on the team until two weeks after the job. Especially at the airport; we were supposed to be complete strangers. Even though this rule restricted me from doing what I wanted to do most, it had promise that there_ would_ be contact.

Yanking my black suitcase from the conveyor belt, I stumbled back, overestimating its weight. I had anticipated it to be heavy, but since I had been told to pack my bags on short notice, I had to pack lightly. In my falter backwards, I bumped into the person behind me with an _oomph_.

"Excuse me! I'm so sor-" I stopped, seeing as I had stumbled into an exquisite set of startling blue eyes. The eyes had the look of someone who was in seriously deep thought.

"It's okay, miss." he said in a flat voice, pushing past me, not even bothering to look at me.

I stopped and stared at his back for a moment, trying to comprehend the fact that I had just emerged from this man's subconscious not half an hour ago. I watched as his shoulders rose and fell, indicating a deep sigh. I could only hope we didn't trouble the young business man's mind too much.

Shaking my head, I started to head the direction that the signs told me was the way to the food court.

My stomach growled and I grimaced. Spending ten hours on four dream levels depleted your energy pretty well. Following my nose to the scent of coffee beans and caffeine, I stood in line at a small coffee shop. I felt around in my carry-on for my wallet when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

Turning around, I was met with the deepest chocolate brown eyes and a perfectly tailored suit. Those two things put one word in my mind.

_Arthur._

Arthur who followed the plan down to a science. Not even the loss of gravity could stop him from following through with a perfectly planned strategy. So it made no sense for him to be breaking his own rule: no contact.

"I believe you dropped this back there, Miss." he said, holding out a sheet of paper folded in half. He looked at me knowingly.

It took a moment for me to respond, "Oh, yes. Thank you." I said, taking the paper.

"Anytime." he said and gave a rare smile, causing my heart to skip a beat. And with that I watched him go until his retreating back was completely concealed by the crowd.

Discarding the idea of finding my wallet, I opened up the paper that said, in perfectly formed hand writing:

_You have hotel reservations at _Comforts Hotel_ a few blocks from LAX.I figured you hadn't thought about staying somewhere afterwards because you came with us on such short notice. The reservations are under the name Carolina Field, just a precaution. Don't worry about paying for anything. Good luck. _

He was right. The thought of where I would go after I bought my coffee and muffin had never occurred to me. I couldn't decide if it was his experience in situations like this that had brought this on, or his simple personality that never missed a detail. But then I realized I didn't care because the piece of paper I held in my hand was solid proof that he was thinking and cared about me.

I'm sure I had the goofiest smile on my face as I paid for my coffee and walked out to catch a cab. After I directed the driver to my hotel, I opened up the note and read it over five more times. It was no love letter or touching good-bye note, but, as I said, it was proof of concern, regard, and I dare say friendship.

I checked into my hotel under my fake name and headed towards the elevators, ready to head to the fourth floor. While inserting my card key into the door, I couldn't help but remember the last time I was in a hotel room. Well, technically I had been in a hotel room, since I was in a dream.

It had been no less than a minute after the kiss. He seemed to brush it off as nothing, but I could have sworn that I saw a smile play along his composed face. His voice was still bouncing around my head, repeating the same words over and over, _"Quick, give me a kiss… It was worth a shot." _What was that supposed to mean?

I watched, feeling a warm blush on my cheeks, as his long-figured hands pulled out the devices he needed in order to drop us. He moved around the room with fluent, gentle grace. I remember hoping he didn't catch me staring. He was addicting to watch. I had thought something along the lines of 'I am _definitely_ falling for you and I'm hoping you catch me, but at the same time I'm hoping you'll drop me in a few minutes.' I had contemplated confronting him about the kiss, but then thought that would seem unprofessional next to his complete professionalism. That conversation could wait.

I threw my suit case onto the bed and began unpacking. I'd probably stay here for a day or two. Professor Miles would cover for me when I got back to the college.

It was dark outside when I had finally emptied my suitcase and while my heart yearned to sketch things could never exist in the real world, I was fighting war with my eyelids and soon found myself curled up on the bed. I pulled out my bishop, placing it on the bedside table. It hit the wood with a _clank, _confirming I was in reality_._ I put Arthur's note next to it and closed my eyes, hoping that even though I wouldn't see him in real life for a while, he'd visit my dreams.

Images of slicked back hair, Penrose steps, rare smiles and red dice floated before my eyes. My last conscious thought was how I was supposed to survive the next two weeks without his smooth voice.

For two days his image was constantly in the back of my mind, refusing to go away. Different memories, large and small consistently floated through my head. The few times I'd seen him smile a full smile, feeling my heart stop and my own lips curl upwards. The day I came back to him and he showed me dreams of the impossible Penrose staircase, sending my curiosity that much deeper.

On the first day I woke up to find the red numbers on digital clock on the bedside table read 11:30am. My back was sore and my head ached. I hate jetlag.

I lay in bed and tipped my bishop again. I read his note again. I came to realize that it smelled faintly of cologne. It only made me want the clock to move faster than it was.

With an effort, I climbed out of bed and hunted down a sketch pad and pencil. It was too early to draw anything new, so I sketched the first thing that came to mind: The area on the second level where we had shared our kiss. Call it an obsession, but it was oddly comforting. The precise angle of the marble stairs, the large windows letting in the light, the straight back of the couch. I didn't draw us sitting there; I wanted that to stay in my head, in my memory. It drew it in three different angles (from the bottom of the stairs, from behind the couch, and a bird's eye view) before I was desperately wishing for some fresh air. The small, silent hotel room was nice enough, but I kept getting the feeling that the walls were closing in on me.

Throwing on some clothes and make up and declaring myself presentable, I shoved my sketch pad in my purse and set off. As I crossed the lobby, I picked up the pace as I neared the door. But I was frozen in place as a haunting, familiar pair of blue eyes appeared on the screen of the TV in the café.

"… Fischer's unexpected decision, allying companies are taking action to keep their businesses afloat without the valued connection to Fischer Corporation. Analysts have predicted that within the next month, the once major Corporation with be nonexistent, leaving a void of…"

The screen floated through different images of Fischer on the street, with Browning, and in various press conferences. He made his decision pretty fast. Did I really do that well of a job? Did _we_ really do that well of a job?

I left the hotel with, yet another, goofy smile on my face. The news made me want to call Cobb, Eames or _someone_ and make sure they knew we had successfully completed a task once thought of as impossible. The temptation my phone presented was almost irresistible. Along with that, the yearning to go back up to the room and continue reading Arthur's letter until my eyes couldn't focus anymore was clouding up my mind. But I busied myself with what I did best: sketching.

I took the opportunity to sketch the iconic buildings and streets of LA. I even considered renting a car and driving out to draw the Hollywood sign. The fresh air and hustle of the city kept me content throughout the day. The sights around here were as architecturally appealing as those in Paris, just in their own expressive way. They helped clear my head and heart beat easier.

Soon after I'd sketched reality to my heart's desire, I went back and re-sketched everything into structures that could only exist in a person's subconscious. Maybe I could use these in future dreamscapes we'd need. I let myself believe there would be future jobs after the excruciating two weeks were over.

I kept asking myself things like '_I wonder what Arthur would think of this angle._' or '_What would Arthur do about this window's placement?_' He was everywhere and I didn't try to push him away. He was like a conscious projection that only I saw in the back of my mind. I could almost see his careful, soft eyes looking over my shoulder as my hand flew across the page. But I was careful not to let him in too much. I didn't want to end up like Cobb, where the one I wanted most was constantly locked in my head.

I spent the first half of the second day convincing myself of what was the best and right thing for me to do from here. I knew I had to go back to the college, because that's what Cobb would want. But what else? The money that Saito had put into my bank account would more than pay for the rest of my tuition. So what should I do about my job at the coffee shop? It was perfectly logical for me to quit, but then it might look suspicious for a college student like me who was supposed to be on a tight budget to spontaneously quit her job.

It was times like these that made my cell phone practically burn in the pocket of my jeans. I desperately wanted to call Cobb and ask for his advice. But mostly I wanted to call Arthur. I had the _perfect_ excuse. I ended up purposely draining my battery to erode some of the temptation.

I laid the issue my part-time job aside as a side thought and debated about the larger things. And by larger things I meant Arthur.

Cobb and Mal had clearly demonstrated what happens when you mix the world of extraction with romance too much. Knowing Arthur as much as I did, I could safely assume that he wasn't going to do something that would risk failing a job.

Did he even think of me as anything more than a co-worker? He was so professional; it was hard to imagine him in a romantic relationship. But still, that kiss burned in the back of my mind. That memory and his note were all I had to cling to.

As I booked my flight home, my trip back to reality, I kept myself in check by continuously tipping my bishop, a game piece. _Arthur has a game piece too_, I thought; his red loaded die. They belonged to separate games. His required luck, mine required skill.

Love requires skill and a bit of luck.

Maybe that's what we were playing: a love game. And as I thought about it, I realized it was my turn, my move.

So, three weeks later, I sat in front of my coffee table, pouring over my text book. I jumped as my phone vibrated from somewhere in the midst of all the papers I had strewn across the table. I tucked my pencil behind my ear and flipped it open.

"Hello?"

"Darling! How are you?"

"Eames!" I said, not bothering to try and hide the excitement in my voice.

"Who else would you expect?"

"Ah-no one-it's just so good to hear from you! Where have you been?"

"Oh, I've been around." He said, mischief playing in his voice.

"Mm-hm. So what pleasure do I owe the honor of this call?"

"Well, Cobb says he's got someone in need of an extraction job. He wanted to make sure we were all on board before he accepted."

"You're doing it?"

"Naturally, love."

"And Yusuf?"

"He says yes."

I couldn't control myself, "Arthur?"

"Funny you should ask; he asked about you too." I tipped my bishop to make sure I heard right. When it fell, I felt like I could kiss Eames for what he just said, "But yes, he's up for it. Cobb wouldn't even attempt a job without him, anyways"

I smiled as I said, "Yes, I'll do it. Never done an extraction job before."

"Oh, if you can handle inception, extraction is a breeze. You'll be a natural, I'm sure."

"Thanks. So when do we start? Has Cobb said anything about the client or mark?"

"No info on the client or mark. But now that you're on board we're meeting at the warehouse a week from Monday. Five o'clock. You remember where it is, right?"

How could I forget? "Yep, I'll be there."

"Excellent. See you soon, darling."

"See you soon."

The line disconnected, and I laughed as I let the realization that I would see Arthur again sink in. I closed my eyes and cherished the bitter-sweet memory of watching him disappear into the crowd at the airport, and then imagined him coming back.

I rolled my game piece between my fingers, ready to make my move.

A/N: Okay, I know, it was really more of a set up chapter. I promise more action in the next chapter. Please tell me what you think, because reviews rock my socks!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the first chapter! You guys seriously rock. Your feedback really keeps me going! Here's the next chapter; hope you enjoy!

(Kats02980416 and SamWild88 – I plan to get into Arthur's view of those weeks in a little bit. Thanks for your review!

Sarah – Your review was awesome and welcome to the fandom!)

Disclaimer:_ If_ I owned Inception, there would be plans for a second movie right now. Seeing as there aren't, I don't own Inception.

Professor Miles had been giving me knowing smiles all week. But I couldn't return them until today. Because today was Monday. The Monday. So Miles wasn't the only one I had smiled at today. I couldn't wipe the stupid grin off my face all day. I had been checking the clock, counting down the hours until five o'clock since I woke up.

I double and triple checked myself in the mirror before heading out at four-thirty. Normally, I wasn't a girl obsessed with how she looked every minute of the day. But I had a feeling today would be a little bit different. As I drove to the warehouse, I couldn't ignore the way my stomach seemed to turn and toss. I didn't get nervous. I get anxious, scared and worried. But not nervous.

The nerves mixed in with the excitement made it hard for me to concentrate on what I would do once I got to the warehouse. I had imagined this scene so many different, unrealistic ways, but now I needed to be serious.

I knew I could offer Yusuf, who was always a bit reserved, a friendly smile. I could hug Eames, who didn't have many, if any, boundaries with stuff like this.

But I was a bit stuck with Arthur. The smart answer was a smile and nod. I toyed with the idea of hugging _all_ of them so that hugging _him_ didn't seem too out of place, but decided that looked better in my head than it would it real life.

I thought about my plan for today. I would take things slow. I didn't have to take my turn today. I could wait until next week to do anything. Because I would see Arthur next week. That thought was one of the best I've ever had.

Besides, part of playing a game was knowing your opponent and their strategy. I'd take today to see where Arthur was in comparison to me and my emotions. But it was rare that he let his true colors show, so that might take some work.

I pulled up to the curb and parked a block away so that, hypothetically, the fresh air could calm me down. That plan didn't work as well as I hoped it would. I checked my reflection in a car's side view mirror one more time before pushing open the door.

I felt that crazy smile creep onto my face as I took in the walls around me. So many memories came flooding back to me as I saw the office and lawn chairs set randomly about the room, just the way we had left them. The easel still sat there, looking lonely. The dusty windows let in the afternoon sunlight that cast low shadows around the room.

Seated in two of the lawn chairs were Eames and Yusuf. Eames had his back to me and I made a quick decision. Yusuf caught my eye, noticing I had arrived, and was about to say something but instead I put a finger to my lips, motioning for him to be quiet. He immediately turned his attention back to whatever Eames was saying. I crept up behind him and put my hands over his eyes.

"Hello Ariadne, dear." He said, sitting perfectly still, not even surprised.

I uncovered his eyes, "How'd you know?"

"I know everything."

"Right." I said as walked around to sit next to him on the lawn chair, giving him a quick squeeze on the shoulder.

"Well, I do." I heard him mumble.

I eyed the PASIV sitting next to Yusuf with deep interest. Right now, I wanted nothing more than a few minutes alone with my subconscious.

Seeing my interest, Yusuf laughed and said, "Sorry to disappoint, but it'll be a while before you'll need to use this again."

"Just five minutes?" I pleaded.

"Are we talking dream or real time?" asked Eames.

"Real time, of course."

"Don't rush back into it so fast. You just got used to being normal again, am I right?"

"I tried to go back to normal, and it didn't work. So five minutes couldn't hurt…"

"Sorry, love. No dreaming for you."

"Not until I find the first pathetic excuse."

"The more you're in the real world the better. We wouldn't want to corrupt your young, brilliant mind so quickly." said Yusuf.

"Too late."

Eames chuckle and said, "That's probably true. But it's not just for your benefit. Imagine what Cobb would do if he walked in to find that we'd let you go under."

"He'd have both our heads." muttered Yusuf.

"Exactly." said Eames, nodding.

"If I didn't have them first." came a voice from behind us.

Eames turned and said, "It's nice to see you too, darling."

Part of playing a game is keeping a poker face. And that is exactly what I intended to do as I turned around to face him. Being Arthur, he would definitely have one on, so why not give one back?

"Hello Arthur." I smiled as I turned around.

I fought to keep my collected composure as he gave me one of his half-smiles and said, "Hello. How've you been?"

Without changing my face, I let my eyes take in his figure. I hadn't seen him in weeks and his image had started to fade from my mind. Seeing him again was, to say the least, refreshing.

I'd imagined this reunion in so many ways. There were no fireworks or anything. But for these few moments, it was only he and I in the room. It was our special moment; no one else's. And that's what made me never want to never look away from his steady gaze. I wanted this moment in my mind forever.

If you fell into his eyes, you had as much a chance of getting out of them as you did getting out of one of my mazes. The perfectly slicked back hair, that occasionally reminded me of a Jane Austen book, was where it always was. His calmly arranged features, betraying no hidden emotion. He was, naturally, in a suit. I wondered if he ever dressed in anything else or if he even knew what jeans were.

_Oh, fine. I've just been waiting for this exact moment for the past week._ "Great. You?"

"Just fine. Ready to get back into it.

"Not more than she is." said Eames.

"Yeah, I heard." I thought I saw the corners of his mouth turn down slightly.

"Has Cobb told you anything about the job?" I interjected.

"No. He said the client is a personal friend of his, so he wanted to be as discreet as possible until today."

"Makes sense." said Eames thoughtfully, "Don't want word getting out that you're planning an extraction job."

"Well, look at this." said a voice from the door. "Just like old times."

There stood Cobb. There was a new light in his eyes that seemed to be contagious. He no longer walked with slightly slumped shoulders and had an air of optimism about him. His blonde hair fell lazily over his forehead.

"Cobb!" I cried, and ran to embrace him.

It was amazing to know that I played a large part in reuniting him with his family. I hadn't even met his kids, but I had already developed a protective sense for them. Anyone who wanted to touch them would have to go through me first. It was so rewarding to see him happy and smiling. Because I cared about Cobb.

"Ready for some extraction?" he asked.

"You know I am."

"We've got her hooked." said Eames, coming to give Dom a pat on the back.

Greetings went around and I took the chance to study Arthur. He smiled as he asked about the kids and laughed when Cobb told them they had asked if they would see 'Uncle Arthur' again. How cute.

He was careful with the amount of emotion he showed. Not aloof, not enthusiastic, but somewhere in between.

We slowly made our way over to the chairs and I made a point to sit next to the PASIV as Eames shook his head. I caught the scent of what smelled like rainwater and mint as Arthur took the seat next to mine. I felt my heart clunck as I tried to decide if it was a coincidence.

"My friend will be here in twenty minutes, so now would be a good time to brief you." announced Cobb and he leaned casually against one of the tables.

"Who's our client?" asked Yusuf.

"A good friend of mine, Corey Jones. Now Jones recently made a business proposal to a man named Oren Mathews who is the head of a large corporation. He proposed that they merge companies. Mathews is inclined to this idea."

"So what's the problem?"

"Jones was approached by a man he knows as Mr. Phillips." _So many generic names, I mused_. "Mr. Phillips also had plans to merge with Mathews, but Jones beat him to it. Phillips is demanding that Jones withdraw his proposal. He's gone as far as personally threatening Jones."

"So Phillips wants Jones to back down before he proposes his idea so that there's no competition?"

"Right. He's laying low. So for now, Mathews is going with Jones' plan."

"Mathews is unaware of Phillips?" I asked.

"Yes. What Jones wants us to do is extract from Mathews who he would choose is he had the options of the two of them."

"So he wants us to find out if Mathews will even accept Phillips before he backs down."

"Exactly"

"But Mathews doesn't know there's another company willing to merge with him. The information wouldn't even be there." said Arthur

"That's where it gets tricky. We'll need to do a small scale inception during the dream so that he's aware of another company while he's dreaming. It doesn't have to stick when he wakes up. Just long enough so that we can extract his preference."

"Sounds simple enough." said Eames.

"So where do we start?" I asked.

"Jones will be here soon, but mostly for Eames because he'll probably have to forge into him."

"How many levels?"

"Two or three."

I exchanged a glance with Arthur. "But doesn't a three-level sedative send us to Limbo if we screw up?" I asked.

"For now it does," said Yusuf, "But I'll have enough time to perfect the sedative so that when the time comes, we can do three levels safely."

"That's a relief." mumbled Eames.

"What do you want the first level to be?" I asked, reaching for my bag.

Cobb turned to a new page of paper on the easel. On top he labeled it 'First Level.'

"We'll want to open up with a reminder of his deal with Jones. So maybe a conference or meeting."

"Mathews isn't a fan of conferences." said a voice from the back of the room.

We all turned to find a man with brunette hair and pricing green eyes standing behind us.

"Nice of you to join us, Corey."

A smile broke onto the man's face. "Hello Cobb."

"You said he wasn't a fan of conferences?" asked Arthur.

"No. He likes to discuss things off the books. Our last meeting was actually at a bar. And you are?"

"Arthur." he said, extending his hand.

Jones moved with an air of importance and what I detected as arrogance as he shook Arthur's outstretched hand.

"So something simple, Ariadne. Nothing fancy on this level." said Cobb.

"I can do that."

"So Eames, you'll be Jones and talk business with Mathews just long enough so that he remembers his agreement. You're the dreamer on the first level."

Eames, who was taking in Jones' every detail with his eyes, merely nodded.

"So what are the rest of us doing on this level?" I asked.

"Staying low, hiding from the projections until Eames is done. When he is, we'll be ready to take Mathews down to the next level."

"That's when we open up the idea of another company." said Arthur. Cobb was writing on the large paper and grunted his approval.

"How do we do that without Eames though? He can't forge Phillips for us when he's on the first level."

"We don't need to forge Phillips," said Arthur, "We only need to present the_ idea_ of another willing company. Any of us can represent that in our natural forms."

"Can you do that, Arthur?" asked Cobb.

"Sure."

I looked at him skeptically, "You'll probably have to be a bit menacing."

He smirked, "You don't think I can be menacing?"

I pursed my lips, "You can do threatening, but _menacing_ I think I'll have to see to believe." A challenged of sorts.

He nodded thoughtfully, his eyes glinting with amusement, "You'll see soon enough."  
"Make sure he understands that you think you can do a better job than Jones." said Cobb, bringing back the serious atmosphere.

"Where is this?" I asked, beginning to sketch the first level.

We all turned to Jones. "A dark alley way, perhaps."

"Isn't that a little cryptic?" asked Yusuf.

"You'd be surprised how many cryptic things go on in the business world." He shot back.

"One dark alley way it is." I mumbled.

"Who's dreaming?" asked Arthur.

"I will. You'll be too focused on Jones and Ariadne doesn't have enough experience with holding dream together this long." said Cobb.

"I can learn!" I protested.

"I don't doubt that, but you'll be needed on the third level anyway."

"Fine. This third level, where is it?"

"There's a safe in Mathew's office in real life. We can extract the information out of that. And if we get it right, he'll believe it's his real office."

"I'll have to go there to make it accurate." I said.

"I can hook you up." said Jones.

Cobb nodded, "Tonight?"

Jones nodded, "I'll tell you when and where in a minute."

"What exactly are we doing on this level and how does Mathews think he got there?" I asked, and I realized that 'we' was me and Arthur. Oh, boy.

"I can convince him that we'll need to go into his office before I give him any details on my proposal on the second level." said Arthur.

"But with no details, there won't be a preference to extract."

We sat in silence for a moment until I spoke up, "Have him take you to a room separate from the room with the safe. You talk to him as long as you need to, and then give me a signal when he has enough information to form an opinion. I'll extract the information."

They all stared at me long enough to make me uncomfortable. I met the gazes of everyone in the room before saying, "What'd I say?"

"The perfect thing." said Arthur.

"An architect and extractor?" asked Eames. "Could it work?"

I looked at Cobb who looked at me in a way that made me want to hold my chin up higher. After a moment he said, "It could work. Any questions?"

"When are we scoping out Mathew's offices?"

"Tonight, at…" Cobb looked at Jones to finish his sentence.

"Come at different times around ten. I can let you in the back door. There will be minimum security, if any, on the ground floor. As long as you avoid the top floor, you should be able to get around the building easily."

"We're breaking in?" I asked.

"We're being let in illegally." clarified Arthur.

"You're breaking in." said Eames and Arthur shot him a dark look.

I smiled and glanced at the clock. "Holy crap!"

"Don't worry, you won't get caught." said Eames.

"No, no. I'm fine with that. But is it really seven-thirty?" I asked, squinting at the clock. Time flies.

"Yeah," said Cobb, glancing at his watch worriedly, "I should get back to the kids before i have to go at ten."

"Where is Mathew's office?" I asked.

"I'll pick you up." said Cobb.

"Thanks."

A flicker of emotion crossed Arthur's face. But it went as fast as it came, and I couldn't catch what it was.

"It was a pleasure meeting you all," said Jones, and was about to leave, but then turned and said "I'm glad my investment is in good hands."

When he had left, Eames asked "Was that a taunt?"

"Corey has been taught not to trust many people. It's in his nature to throw stuff like that."

"Well," said Eames, standing, "It was lovely to see you all again. You three have a long night, tonight. Good luck."

Yusuf nodded to each of us as he too left the warehouse.

"I'll see you two in a few hours. No point in saying 'bye' now. I'll pick you up at a quarter till, Ariadne."

"Okay," I said, packing my sketchbook back in my bag.

"Um, Ariadne." said Arthur.

"Yes?"

"You might want to change into something darker before Cobb picks you up tonight." He said, gesturing to my white blouse.

"Oh! Yeah, I guess I should." I said, trying to conceal the blush that crept onto my cheeks.

"Don't worry," he said, seeing my uneasiness, "Eames was right, we won't get caught. And you're not exactly a law-abiding citizen anymore so…"

"I guess I should get used to this." I said, more confidently.

He nodded and smiled, actually _smiled!_ I felt my heart pound.

Then he laid a hand on my shoulder and said, "We'll keep you safe."

I smiled back as I thought_, Me, you and Cobb breaking into a corporate building in order to duplicate it in a dream. Could tonight get any better?_

A/N: Thanks for reading! If I confused anyone, tell me in a review or pm; I'll gladly try to explain it better to you. Please review! It might help me update faster. *wink*


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: So because some of you have been asking for Arthur's POV, I'll do it for this chapter! Again, thanks for the awesome reviews, you guys! Hope you enjoy!

I tried not to smile as I watched the headlights of Cobb's car pull into the parking lot. I caught a glimpse of wavy brown hair in the window before the bright lights blocked me from seeing into the car temporarily.

I was taken back a couple weeks ago, when every flash of hair her color sent my eyes wide open and every laugh that sounded like hers caused my heart to clench.

I had left LA as soon as possible, catching the first plane to Paris after I had passed her my note. Being that close to her, knowing exactly where she was, would keep me up at night if I had stayed. I could've easily had Cobb set up her hotel reservations, but I did. Because I wanted to know where she would be after we parted ways at LAX.

I wandered around Paris, not really having a purpose. My main goal was to keep my mind off of her. I contemplated looking for work, but I knew that wouldn't be a smart move just days after the inception. Who knew what kind of word had gotten around since then?

I could often be found at this bar, trying to think away my problems. Different women passed through the bar, trying to talk to me. But I'd brush them off. They didn't understand what it was like to wonder if you were in reality all the time like Ariadne did. I couldn't share a dream or complete an impossible task with them like I could with her. They were like projections; always there and constantly on my nerves

In the end, it was work that found me. I was sitting at the bar, when a man approached me. He knew my name, which was the first sign of danger. He said he had a job for me if I was interested.

I didn't have to give a second thought to saying 'no'. Because I knew I had my own team. A team with a reliable chemist, a first-rate forger, an extractor who knew what he was doing, and the best architect I've ever seen. I didn't need to look anywhere else for anything.

The only reason I had ever gone to that bar was because I felt dejected. I never went there again.

I fought through the next week ignoring anything to do with chess, women wearing scarves, and the couples sharing kisses. I was in the city of love, for goodness sakes, which didn't help my goal to not think of her.

Finally, the day came when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I don't think I have or ever will be so happy to hear Eames's – of all people - voice ever again. He didn't know if Ariadne would be there when I returned to the warehouse. I remember rolling my die and seeing the correct number show. If this was reality, then I had nothing to loose when I accepted the offer.

So when I walked into the warehouse today, and saw her sitting there with Eames and Yusuf, it felt like I had been asleep the past couple of weeks. The moment those sweet brown eyes met mine; I knew I had a problem.

Cobb was my best friend, and the least I could do was learn from his mistakes. The smart choice would be to strictly put the job before my attraction to her. But… I couldn't. As the meeting progressed, I found her presence harder and harder to ignore.

I found myself focused on how her small hand carefully drew the outline of what would become a dreamscape. Or how her shiny hair fell lightly on her shoulders. And even worse, the way her pink lips moved as she spoke. She looked so innocent sitting there; not like someone who worked in a world of extraction. The ironic thing was that now I was going to teach her how to break into and basically case a business office.

I let myself smile as she stepped out of the car. She was wearing dark jeans and a black V-neck. Just like I told her to. It was cute.

Her eyes swept the area, taking in the surroundings until they fell on me, leaning against the building. They lingered on me a little longer than they needed to.

"Keep your head down when walking down halls and in elevators, so the cameras don't see your face," Cobb was saying as they walked towards me, "And only touch things that everyone touches, like door knobs and drawer handles."

Cobb had taught Ariadne the basic rules of the dream space, but he couldn't teach her how to take her building to the next level. I had been the one to do that, and I was proud of it. A strange feeling had shot through me when I realized she had used a paradox in the hotel during the inception job. That paradox had saved my life.

I was broken out of my thoughts as a heard a third set of footsteps approaching. These footsteps belonged to Jones. I didn't like the vibe this guy gave off, but he was paying top dollar for us, so I couldn't really complain.

"What if we get caught?" she asked.

Cobb smiled at me, "This is the third time tonight she's asked this."

"What was your answer?" I asked.

"We won't."

I nodded, "He's right," I told Ariadne, and she gave us both an exasperated look.

"Good," said Jones, "because I'd hate to have to find another team."

"How's the security?" I asked.

"Mainly cameras and a guard on the top floor. But he's not very bright, so he shouldn't be an issue." As he said this, he produced a key from his pocket and put it into the door. With a click, we were in.

"That's it? Some security they've got." I said.

"No, there's a door with a keypad at the end of this hallway. The code is 4-1-9."

"Only three numbers." mused Cobb.

"Good luck to you all. I expect to see you soon." said Jones, and he turned on his heel and was gone.

Cob turned to us, "Arthur, you take her to the second and third level. I'll stay on the bottom."

"Give me a call in an hour if it's clear to come down."

He nodded and headed in the door.

"Keep your head down," I reminded Ariadne and held the door for her. She nodded and ducked inside. After Cobb punched in the code, Ariadne and I made our way over to the elevators.

"We only have an hour?" she asked.

I nodded as the _ding_ announced the arrival of the elevator. She whipped out her paper and pencil and immediately started sketching everything. The font of the numbers on the buttons, the geometric pattern on the walls around us, and the tile flooring. She looked so serious with her head down and pencil moving furiously yet purposefully. I willed myself not to stare at her the entire ride up to the second floor.

Her eyes never left her paper even as she stepped off the elevator. She would quickly and covertly glance around the hall and then instantly return to sketching. _It's almost like she's avoiding my eyes, _I thought. But I quickly cast that thought out, I must be paranoid. I didn't say anything; I just let her work. I didn't even know what I would say if I wanted to.

As she sketched, I took down the names of people who worked in the building for research later. I promised to be _extremely_ focused and not miss a single detail on this job. My mistake last time had almost cost us our lives. Her life. I was still in the process of forgiving myself.

I forced myself into my comfortable business mode. I made sure my thought were where they needed to be and not on how I would occasionally catch a scent of perfume when we passed each other. Or how I thought I saw her fleetingly glance at me every few minutes.

"Ready?" she asked, half an hour later with her sketch book tucked under her arm.

"Sure," I said and closed one of the file drawers I had been sifting through.

The next floor continued as peacefully as the first with her sketching and drawing and my name-taking and digging. Well, it was peaceful until we both heard the approaching footsteps.

I _almost_ had my guard down when our gazes locked onto each other at the sound of advancing footfalls down the hall. Her wide eyes, filled with fear, looked at me, asking what to do. Protectiveness was added to the list of things I felt towards her. I gestured for her to quickly follow me.

As I led her down an unfamiliar corridor, my own words floated back to me, _"We'll keep you safe,"_

I silently pulled open what looked like the lunch room. "Stay here," I said, "until you

hear me pass by here again. Then go down to the second level and wait for me."

Her face showed what looked like rebellion, and her mouth moved to protest but I pressed a finger against her lips and whispered, "Please. I'm trying to keep my word."

I couldn't see in this dim light, but I thought I saw a dusting of pink appear on her cheeks. She nodded and quickly but quietly shut the door behind her.

I had intended to go wait and knock out the guard as he turned the corner, but he was already past there and headed towards me.

"Hey, you!" he said, and rushed towards me. I took off down the hall and I heard a gun come out behind me. Jones was right; this guy wasn't very bright.

I ran around the floor for what seemed like forever with the adrenaline running through my veins, running past Ariadne's room again. I was obviously much younger than him and could easily tire him out if I ran long enough, but that gun was compromising my situation and I could tell this wouldn't last much longer.

Going back to my original plan, I turned on my heel and ran at him full force with my fist clenched. I hit him square on the nose and the shock of it caused him to drop the gun. The impact is what made him finally fall unconscious. He hit the ground with a thud. Taking his gun, I simply walked around him and headed down to Ariadne. _Some security guard _he_ was_, I thought smugly.

"Arthur!" she said, when I stepped off the elevator, her eyes wide and face full of worry, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. That was nothing."

She furrowed her eyebrows, "Doesn't look like nothing. You look exhausted."

It's true, I was trying taking steady, even breaths, but it just came out sounding like gasping. "No, I-"

"Sit down." she said, guiding me over to the bench across the room. "What'd you do?"

"I knocked him out." I said simply.

She let out a low whistle "All three hundred pounds of him?"

"Every last ounce."

She smiled. Gosh, she had a pretty smile. "So now what?"

"We wait here until Cobb calls with the all-clear to come down. I don't want to risk going back upstairs. He might wake up."

"Won't he come looking for us if he does?"

"No, he'll probably think we've left the building."

She nodded and we fell into a comfortable silence. She rustled through her papers and seemed to be checking every last detail of what was around her. The moonlight streamed through a nearby window and when she occasionally turned at the right angle, it created a breathtaking silhouette.

"I hope Cobb gets everything." she mumbled, breaking me out of my trance.

I looked at her, "Cobb was an excellent architect before he was an excellent extractor, you know."

"Yeah, but I'm one of those people who believes in 'if you want something done right, do it yourself."

"Not a bad philosophy. But don't worry, Cobb will get everything and more."

I rolled my die around in my pocket, trying to think of something to say. This was my time with her, I could ask her whatever and not have to worry about Eames or Cobb hearing. And there were a few things I really wanted to know, like, "Why'd you come back?"

"What?"

"Why did you accepted the offer when Eames called. Why'd you say yes?"

She put aside her papers and pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around around them. She thought about it a moment and then said, "A few reasons. One, I can't stay away. But you knew that."

I smiled at the memory of her returning to the warehouse – and me - after she had briskly exited the day before. She was so eager to learn and took in my every word.

I nodded for her to go on. "Two, I wanted to see you all again. It felt so strange for me to just leave you all behind at the airport. Like I should have at least said good-bye or something."

I shrugged masking my happiness that she had wanted to see me again, "It happens in this area of work."

"Three, I get to break _all_ the rules. Legal rules, moral rules, physical rules. It's fun."

"I take it you are normally a rule-breaker?"

"Not often."

I chuckled, "Yeah, you don't seem like the type"

"I don't?" she half-smiled.

"No, you seem too innocent with all your questions."

She laughed, oh that laughed that I'd longed to hear, "I can be a troublemaker when I want to be."

"I can tell," I gestured around us.

We were quiet for a moment, and I realized how easy it was for me to be near her. It made me feel _whole_. Her presence seemed to fill the room and I had a strange impulse to put my arms around her. It made my heart pound in my chest.

She turned to me, "Arthur?"

"Hm?"

"Why'd you kiss me?" she asked, laying her cheek on her knees to look at me, turning her wide, brown eyes up at me. She looked at me evenly, as if she perfectly knew how hard of a question it was.

This surprised me, so I stated the obvious, "To distract the projections."

"Liar."

I looked at her with an eyebrow raised, "You did this to Cobb, didn't you?"

"Did what?" I had a feeling she was perfectly masking her emotions behind a composed face.

"I don't know, you just have this way of making people tell you what you want. I'm the closest friend Cobb's got and even he wouldn't tell me when his rouge Mal-projection got worse. Somehow you got him to tell you."

She pressed her lips together, as if debating whether to say something. "So, why'd you do it?"

I laughed, the words stuck in my throat. She was so dead set on a straight answer. Finally, I sighed and said, "It's my job as Point-Man to make sure everything goes right. Right then, kissing you felt right. I was doing my job."

I was only half-lying. It _was_ my job to make sure everything went smoothly. But I had kissed her because I had the perfect excuse. "Give me a kiss," was more a command than a suggestion; she didn't have much room to say no. Then again, she was Ariadne and if she wanted to say no, she probably would've. But she didn't, which is what drove me crazy.

"Mixing work with pleasure?" she asked, bringing me back.

I laughed, "You could say that."

She looked at me for a moment, as if deciding if I was telling the truth, then nodded, satisfied.

My phone vibrated from inside my pocket, sadly ending our little moment. I wanted it to go on; I wanted to ask her more. But focusing on the task at hand I pulled out my phone, but not without effort.

"Come one down"

"We'll be there."

She collected her papers and stood up and tucked her stuff back under her arm. "Not tired anymore?" she teased.

"I was always fine." I defended.

"Mm-hm." She smiled.

The first thing she did when we returned to the first floor was check Cobb's sketches. I chuckled to myself and leaned against the wall while they did their architect stuff.

"Was the guard any trouble?" asked Cobb when they were done.

"Not really." I replied.

"Are you kidding? You were practically panting after you took him out."

I rolled my eyes, "I told you, I was fine."

Cobb and I laughed as we strolled toward the door, "Come on, let's call it a night."

I had parked my car on the street, so I headed a different direction than they were going. When Cobb thought I was out of earshot, he whispered, "What did you _do_, Ariadne?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I haven't heard Arthur laugh like that in a long time. What'd you do up there?"

"What makes you think it was me? Maybe something happened between the warehouse and here that made him happy."

"I would've known. I think you did something."

"I didn't do any…" I was too far away to hear the rest of it.

I felt a wide smile spread across my face as I opened my car and rolled my die on the dashboard. This was my reality. And she had done definitely something to it.

A/N: So, what do ya think? How was Arthur's POV? Please tell me! Thanks for reading! :)


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Here's the next chapter! Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Inception…not even on DVD…but it's number one on my birthday wishlist.

I lay in my bed that night, staring at the bare ceiling. I had long ago given up trying to find sleep. I had played a game of hide and seek with it for hours, to no prevail. I had only one thought floating through my mind.

_Kissing me felt _right.

He didn't regret it. He didn't wish he could go back and change it. The moment wasn't a mistake in his mind. It gave me such relief. I had been turning that memory over and over in my head all day. I remembered standing in the hotel, deciding against confronting him. I kept weighing myself down with questions like '_What if he wishes he could've done it differently?_' Then, today comes along and gives me the perfect opportunity to ask him.

I wanted to bottle those few precious moments we had spent sitting there on the second floor, answering whatever questions we threw at each other, so I could relive them whenever I chose.

Everything I told him was true; I can't stay away, I wanted to see them all again, and it felt liberating to break the rules. I simply hadn't told him that a large part of my return was due to his presence.

Cobb's words came to me_, "I think you did something." _Although I very much wished I had, I honestly didn't want to even begin to think of the effect I could possibly have on the point man. True, he had known Arthur much longer than I had, but I didn't want to credit myself with being the cause of his laughter.

I'd gotten him to say stuff that you wouldn't say in an everyday conversation. I was proud because that had been my goal this morning. I guess you could say he called me out on it, but he said those things, none the less.

I rolled over, clutching the blankets close to me, to look at my tipped bishop sitting on my bedside table. I closed my eyes and remembered the feel of his finger against my lips, and the way he had tried to mask his fatigue. I savored the memory of his mesmerizing smile in the dimly lit room. A smile for me, and only me. _My smile_, I thought greedily.

The last thing I heard before unconsciousness took over was rain hitting the roof.

The last thing I remembered was his soft lips brushing mine in his dream.

The next day, I found myself completely and utterly absorbed in recreating every last aspect of Mathews' office. The bland wall color, the shelves perfectly lined against each wall, and the abstract paintings placed along the walls to cover up blank spaces. I had to resist the urge to create a better interior design. It was obvious that not much time had been spent on the final furnishings of the place.

"Need another pencil?" Cobb asked sarcastically, as he passed.

There was a pencil behind my ear, one in my hand, several scattered across my make-shift desk and one holding my hair up in a bun.

"No, I think I'm good for now." I laughed.

He walked to my side of the desk, looking over my shoulder. "You've gotten a lot done." He gestured to the sketches thrown haphazardly around the desk and miniature styrofoam model I had created of what I had so far.

I shrugged, "The design wasn't as intricate as I expected. I should be done with this level by today."

"Do you have an escape route?"

"Escape route?"

"Incase Mathews' projections catch on. You'll want somewhere you can run if things go bad."

I looked at my sketches for a minute and shook my head, "No, but Arthur is the dreamer, so I'll leave that up to him… Cobb?"

"Yeah?"

"If I get this done today, can I go under and teach it to Arthur?"

The silver case sitting on Eames' desk had been mocking me ever since I got here, with its shiny surface catching the sunlight, creating glares in my vision. I was caught between shoving it in a corner so I wouldn't have to look at it or hooking myself up to it.

Another part of me simply longed to dream with Arthur again. I always felt so safe when I dreamed with him while he taught me about duplicating Lionel Penrose's works or fooling projections with a maze. His confidence gave me a sense of security that made me feel at home in the dream space. I longed for the rush of feeling I got when I arrived in an impossible place that allowed me to build to my heart's content.

Cobb looked at me thoughtfully for a moment, a hard look in his eyes, "Don't rush yourself. We're not on a deadline like we were last time."

"Is that a yes?" I asked slowly.

"Are you going to rush?"

"No." I replied, maybe a little too quickly.

He gave a weak smile and I dared to be hopeful. "Okay, why not?"

"Thank you!" I yelped, hugging him around the waist from where I was sitting.

"Anytime. And it's good to have you back, by the way." He put an arm around my shoulder.

"Good to have you back too."

I went back to building my model, keeping my promise to not rush. I obsessively included every last detail, meticulously wracking my brain to make sure I didn't miss anything.

Everyone minded their business, not speaking often. Eames sat with his chair tipped back and feet on the desk as he read over a file Arthur had given him, preparing to forge Jones. Arthur sat at his desk, looking perfect with his easy grace, a legal pad and pen in front of him. His dark eyes were trained on the screen of his laptop, but every time I looked away, I could swear I felt his gaze shift to me. It was really distracting and I fought to finish the level.

Cobb worked with Yusuf on perfecting the sedative. Cobb was the guinea pig, going under on each new chemical Yusuf came up with every twenty minutes, swearing this one was better than the last. It made me nervous that Cobb would voluntarily experiment with this stuff, but he never hit Limbo and I was grateful Yusuf knew what he was doing.

The sun rose to its highest point at noon, and slowly made its decline downward. Someone turned on the lamps around the warehouse and Cobb soon left to go home to his kids. Because he could. That thought left a smile on my face. Maybe by the end of this, I'd finally meet James and Phillipa.

A little later, Arthur made to grab his coat and leave.

"Wait!" I called.

He turned, "Yes?"

"I…" I made to tell him of my plans to teach him the dream, but the words stuck in my throat. He was standing there so confidently, like someone who knew their importance and didn't bother to hiding it. He looked like he really needed to be somewhere and I would be slowing him down. "…never mind." I trailed off.

"You sure?"

"Yeah." I made sure to hide the disappointment creeping onto my face.

He nodded. "Night." He called over his shoulder and I heard the door bang shut behind him.

"There goes your first pathetic excuse." mumbled Eames, quoting me from yesterday, "You let it walk right out the front door."

"I'm not that desperate." I defended, "Where was he going anyways?"

"To meet Jones. See if he has any information we already don't. But I doubt he will, so he'll be back soon."

"Why do you doubt?"

"I'll deny it if you tell anyone I said this, but Arthur is the best at what he does."

"Best point-man, best extractor," I counted off on my fingers, "best chemist and best forger."

"Don't forget the best architect. The dream extraction team. No pun intended."

"Seems too good to be true. Like it shouldn't be possible." I mused.

"Ah, but that's the beauty of it. Anything's possible in a dream."

"How fitting."

He nodded, "So, how _was_ last night?" His tone changed from thoughtful to playful in a way that only he, a forger, could pull off.

I wasn't exactly sure where he was going. "Um, good. Successful. Why?"

He tilted his head slightly to one side, "Oh, no reason in particular. Just figured you'd like some alone time with Arthur."

I could feel the blush start up my neck and silently thanked my scarf for hiding it. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, but you do. Don't play dumb, I've seen the way you two look at each other. It's no big secret."

"And how exactly does he look at me?" I pried, trying to sound challenging. I honestly didn't know about the supposed 'looks' Arthur had been giving me. I'd been too nervous to chance a glance over my shoulder whenever I felt eyes on my back.

He looked at me a moment, as if deciding whether or not to say something. A small smile grew on his face, "You two really are oblivious aren't you?"

"Eames, how does he look at me?"

His expression softened, "The way Cobb looked at Mal. I'd never seen that look on Arthur. I had to make sure it was him when I saw it." He held up his totem, a poker chip.

"When was this?"

"The first time was at the airport after the Fischer job. I've been seeing it all the time since then. But only when you, my dear, are around. And then, of course, there's the looks you give him."

"I don't give him looks!"

He simply laughed, "Never become a forger, love; You can't lie. Even Cobb sees how your mood swings when Arthur steps in the room."

"He does?" So maybe my poker faces hadn't worked.

He nodded solemnly, "I don't want to get into your love life tonight, but-"

"Arthur doesn't have anything to do with my love life!"

He raised his eyebrows, "That kiss didn't mean anything?"

"How do you know about that?" I gasped, but then clamped my hand over my mouth. I just admitted to kissing Arthur to Eames. Damn, he was good.

"I know everything. Not that I blame you or him."

"What is that supposed mean?"

He waved his hand dismissively, "The point is that I have a word of advice: be careful."

I sighed and looked him in the eye, "Yeah, I've been telling myself that for a while now."

"Good. You have a smart conscious."

I shrugged, "But how long will that last?"

"In this business, who knows?"

I smiled and moved towards his desk, resting my hand on the PASIV, "Even if Arthur doesn't come back tonight, I need this."

He looked at me skeptically, "Well… I guess it's only fair."

"I wasn't asking for your permission." I said, and walked away with it before he could say no, and set the timer for five minutes.

I took a deep breath of relief as I faded into my creation. I was breaking one of the first rules Cobb taught me: Never create places from your memory. But did this place count? It was a memory of a dream.

I found myself standing on the steps of a marble staircase, surrounded by people in formal clothing, with the expression that Arthur had on earlier: an important one. Glancing down, I found myself in my everyday clothes and I felt out of place.

At the top of the stairs was a couch with a straight back. A couch I knew well. I had returned to the hotel from the Fischer job.

I sat on the couch for goodness knows how long with my legs crossed casually as I played with the building around me. I turned most of the lamps upside down. I folded the ceiling in on itself. I turned the stairs into a slide, sending my subconscious flying. I changed the color of the carpets and added columns in random places. I made a large clock with elaborate, decorated hands to keep track of how much time I had left. At one point, I shattered all the glass in the windows and suspended the shards, making the air look like it glittered.

I had one minute left in the real world when I saw him. He was leaning elegantly against a wall, glancing down at his watch every few seconds, as if he was waiting for someone. I knew he wasn't real because he didn't look quite the same. His face not as distinguished and his clothes not as wrinkle-less. He seemed blurred around the edges.

"Arthur?" I whispered, in disbelief.

He head snapped up from his watch and he smiled, starting to walk towards me. His movements weren't as effortlessly elegant. I frantically looked around, unsure of what to do. The only real interaction I'd had with projections was with Mal, so I didn't really know what to expect.

"Hello." He said it in the exact way he had the other day when I saw him again for the first time in weeks.

I nodded politely, "Hello."

"Do you mind?" he gestured to my couch.

I tried not to let my hesitation show, as I was uncertain about letting projection-Arthur sit where reality-Arthur had sat. But what would happen if I made my own subconscious nervous by denying? Would they start to tear me apart?

To stay on the safe side, I nodded again, watching as he placed his briefcase on the floor next to his feet.

I glanced at him, taking in my subconscious' view of him. This was a dream. I could do whatever in here and no one would be the wiser. I could drape my arms around him. I could lean my head on his shoulder. I could feel his soft lips on mine again.

_Stop it_, I chided myself. _What's wrong with you?_ I _could _do all of these things. But I wouldn't. It wasn't right, and it certainly doesn't do well to play dreams. Cobb had clearly shown me the wrong ways to use them.

And besides, this wasn't Arthur. Arthur with the defined face, neatly pressed clothes, slicked hair, careful hands, watchful gaze, and devilishly handsome smile.

What scared me was that I wanted to do all these things in real life. I wanted to make him laugh, I wanted to dream with him, I wanted to talk with him for hours on end discovering each other's secrets, I wanted to hold his hand in mine.

"I love you, don't I?" I murmured, looking at projection-Arthur.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing!" I quickly turned away, using my hair to hide my face. Maybe 'love' wasn't the right word. Not yet. Maybe it was affection, desire, a crush, or maybe just attachment. But whatever it was, I hoped he felt the same for me.

A/N: Ta da! Please review! I promise it won't take more than twenty seconds! Thanks for reading! :)


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hey guys! Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews! I know you hear this a lot, but you all seriously rock. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Inception.

On Friday, I woke up to a pounding headache. It felt like someone was taking a hammer to the middle of my forehead. Along with that, I felt like my body was here, but the rest of me chose to float somewhere else. Groaning, I opened my eyes to a clock that read 7:30.

"Crap," I mumbled. If today were any other day, I would skip school, sleep an extra three hours, and try to rid myself of this horrible ailment. But today was filled with tests, lectures and due dates that were, sadly, unskippable.

After hearing the sorry clang of my bishop hitting the table, I half walked half crawled to the bathroom, hoping in the back of my mind that I would spontaneously collapse, earning me a trip to the ER and not Physics 3-4.

I gasped at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were blood shot and my skin was so pale it looked as if it had never seen sunlight. Not to mention my hair that had fallen in to complete disarray.

After freshening up as best I could, using the miracles of make up, and downing two Tylenol, I headed out the door, slamming it behind me. I finally admitted to myself that I was _really_ sick when I almost ran a red light at a major intersection. Cursing morning traffic, I glanced at the clock and willed it to go just three minutes slower.

Since my wish wasn't granted, I slid into my first period exactly two minutes after the bell as the professor gave me an exasperated look. I fought through the rest of the day ignoring loud noises, not eating because of the increasing nausea and struggling to not fall asleep with my head on my notebook in every class. Today was not my day.

"Hallelujah," I muttered under my breath, as I was dismissed from my final class. I headed out to my car, intending to drive straight to the warehouse, but instead I found myself no longer able to keep my eyes open. I allowed myself five minutes of shut-eye before putting the key in ignition. Just five minutes. The only thought that kept me awake during the drive was the fact that I needed to get my job as an architect done. I couldn't let the others down.

I parked my car a block away, like I always did, and leaned my forehead against the steering wheel, groaning as the world spun around me. The edges of my vision blurred and I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing on keeping the ground stable beneath me.

Mustering up all the strength and martyrdom I could, I forcefully threw myself out of the car and determinedly marched towards the doors. _I'm the architect. I have a job to finish_, I thought, fighting to keep my chin up.

Everyone else was already there, going about their usual business. I must have delayed longer than I thought I had. I normally wasn't the last one to arrive.

"Good afternoon, darling!" called Eames from his desk. I mumbled my weak response, not bothering to gather the courage to speak clearly, keeping my eyes fixed on the ground. I pretended not to notice the glance he and Arthur exchanged at my lack of response.

Since I had my eyes so carefully trained on the floor, I walked smack into Cobb with an _oomph_. I looked up into his eyes that were filled with worry.

"Sorry," I muttered, eyeing my sketchbook sitting on my desk. _I have a job._

I made to go and sit down at my desk, put Cobb put a restraining arm in front of me.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked.

"To my desk?"

He surprised me by placing a hand on my forehead, lines appearing on his forehead in concern. "You're burning up, Ariadne. You feel clammy too." He said, sliding his hand down to my cheek.

I saw Arthur shift uncomfortably in his seat in my peripheral vision, twirling his pen around his finger.

"I'm fine. It's probably just a cold." I said, knowing perfectly well that whatever I had was a few steps above just a simple cold.

I took another step towards my desk, but the world swirled around me and I started to fall to one side. Cobb caught me, holding me upright so that I looked him in the eye.

"I think you better sit today out."

"What? No! I haven't even started the second level yet and I still have to teach the last one to Arthur." I fought the reflex to look at him directly, sitting his chair, a worried expression on his face.

"No, you go home. _I'll_ teach it to Arthur. He and I were there, it won't be that hard. You can finish the other levels later. I told you, we're not on a deadline."

"Cobb, really I'm fine." I said, trying to push past him again, but his hold was too strong.

"You think Miles will like it when he finds out I let his brightest and best over-work herself? Oh no, you go home."

"I'm not over-working myself, I'm fine."

"Love, honestly, you are fooling no one. The only thing keeping you from toppling over where you stand is Cobb." said Eames.

I sighed and looked from Cobb to Eames, weighing my options. "Well, alright. Just let me take my sketchbook."

Cobb shook his head, "Not that either."

"That's not fair!" I protested. I fought against his hold giving all I had, which wasn't much, into reaching the little brown sketchpad lying on the workspace. Cobb made a motion to Eames who went and plucked up the pad, taking it from out of my reach.

"You're all really mean." I said, giving Cobb a death glare, but that only brought laughter from around the room.

"One day without building won't hurt you, I promise." he said, pushing me towards the door.

"That's what you say." I muttered, starting to walk toward the away, turning my back on them.

"Rest up, Ariadne. Come back tomorrow when you're better."

"Who says I'll be better tomorrow? I should bring my book just in case." I turned back to them, heading toward Eames.

Again, Cobb stood in my way. "You take as many days as you need. You're sketch pad will be waiting here for you when you feel better."

I gave him a hard look and silence settled over the room for a moment. I lunged towards Eames, taking them all by surprise.

I just barely had the book in my grasp when – "Dom! Catch!" - He tossed over my head to Cobb. Cobb caught it with ease, backing away from me.

"Oh, so now we're playing keep-away, hm?" I asked.

He shrugged, "Do you want to?"

I slowly advanced on him as he kept backing up. Eventually, he hit the side of a table, no longer able to go further. As soon as his back touched the table, I lunged for my book again, but this time it was thrown to Arthur.

_Good gosh_, I thought as a hint of that challenging smile I loved played on his face. I walked over to him as he hid the book behind his back.

"Please, Arthur?" I pleaded.

"You know I can't." he said.

"You can, but you won't."

He held the book in front of himself, flipping through it, knowingly taunting me. It was _right_ _there_. If only I had the courage to take it from his hands. I just hoped he didn't turn to the page that contained my various sketches of the hotel lobby. That smile stretching even wider on his face as he glanced up at me through his lashes, clearly seeing the frustrated expression on my face.

"Maybe. But either way, this stays here." he said, setting the sketch book on his desk behind him. "Come on, I'll take you home."

Okay, leaving my book behind I could handle. But another good ten minutes alone with Arthur, I was completely unprepared for.

"Uh…I, Um… if…" I trailed off, unable to complete a full sentence. I felt a blush warm on my cheeks, no matter how hard I tried to suppress it.

"Listen to yourself. You don't think I'd let you drive yourself home in this condition, do you?"

"I made it here in one piece." I defended.

"You got lucky." He said, grabbing his coat from off the back of his chair. "Come on." He turned his back on me for one moment and I dove one last time for my book.

Hearing my movement, he turned to block the pad from my view. But it was too late; I was heading towards the table with too much force. My outreaching hand made a hard contact with his shoulder and I sent him falling backwards onto the ground. Not expecting the collision, I fell with him and I fell against his chest, knocking the breath from me.

Time stopped for a moment as I turned my head to look into his eyes that were light with amusement. A smirk stretched across his mouth and I my heart was beating so loud I would bet a lot of money that he could hear it.

The closeness of our bodies sent a wave of shock through me and I fought to keep my breathing even. I could smell the cologne that I had smelled on his note mixed with the mint on his breath. Our lips were no more than an inch apart. My mouth tingled with the nostalgia to return to that moment when our lips had touched.

"Tell me someone has a camera." laughed Eames, killing the magic. I could smack him across the face. Hard.

I got off him and he stood up, offering his hand to me to help me up. Eternally the gentleman.

That bad boy smile still played on his face and I felt like letting my legs go out from under me again. "I am definitely driving you home."

I snatched my sketchpad from off the floor. "Fine."

I heard Eames mutter something behind me. "What was that?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing." He gave me a look that clearly said, _That was _not_ careful._

"Come on." said Arthur, grabbing my elbow and gently pulling toward the door, probably trying to avoid an argument with Eames. I let him lead me out onto the street and I steered him in the direction of my car. I pulled my keys out from my back pocket and grudgingly handed them to him.

I chanced a look at him as I got into the passenger side over the top of the car. His face had returned to its normal composure and I started to feel the withdrawal of his lovely smile.

The first few minutes of the ride were comfortably quiet until his said, "You really shouldn't over work yourself, you know."

"I know."

"Are you going to work on the layouts while you're sick?"

"A little. I don't want to fall completely behind, but I don't know how much I can work with this pounding headache."

"Ah, so you admit you're sick."

I shrugged, "No point hiding it."

"Not with Eames around."

"Not with Eames around." I agreed.

* * *

Her scent floated through the car, making it hard for me to concentrate on the road in front of me.

I pulled up to the curb next to her apartment complex. She hadn't told me an address, but I knew where she lived as was required by my job description.

There was a pregnant pause as she unbuckled herself from the seat. I cleared my throat, "I never got a chance to tell you how impressed I was with your work on the inception job."

"Oh, thanks. That really means a lot coming from you."

"Yeah, I saw the paradoxes you added into the hotel. It was a nice touch."

She smiled that smile that made me want to brush my finger across her lips again. "I thought you'd like those. And I couldn't resist using something like that. I guess it was the architect enthusiast inside me."

I laughed, "Cobb was like that too. Always using the things that couldn't exist in the real world."

"It's hard to resist."

I nodded, "I'll leave your car here," I pulled the keys out of ignition, "and catch a cab back."

She nodded, grabbing the handle. "I'll see you later."

"Oh, no. I'm walking you in. Don't want you collapsing half way down the hall."

She looked at me, as if deciding whether or not she should let me follow her. Finally she let out a breath, "Fine."

Coming around to the sidewalk, she tripped over the curb and I caught her, throwing my arms around her torso. My face was close enough to her hair that I could smell the sweet, delicate scent she had. It took a lot of self-restraint to not continue to hold her closer.

"Are you sure you don't want me to carry you the rest of the way?" I asked. I didn't know whether or not I meant it, but I wouldn't mind holding her small body against mine for the second time today.

She let out a noise that sounded like a cross between a strangled cry and a laugh. "Nah. I'll just use you as a crutch." She slid an arm around my waist, leaning into me. I could feel the weight she put into me and I realized how weak this 'cold' had made her.

We quietly made our way up a flight of stairs. It took us a little longer than it usually would because she had to put so much effort into each step.

I felt so bad for her. She always had this 'I can do it myself,' air about her and I could see how this illness had depleted her. I wanted to lift her spirits somehow and see that sparkle in her eyes that I loved.

She shakily put her key in the door, unlocking it. Walking in, she set her pad down on a counter calling, "You can come in," over her shoulder.

I looked around the front room as I said, "Thanks," I could see a small kitchen with a window facing the street on the left. It was surprisingly spotless for someone with as little free time as she probably had.

To the right was a small room with a couch and coffee table in front of it. There was a hall that probably led to her room or the bathroom. The room on the right had papers scattered across the floor and open textbooks in random places. The window provided the most amount of light for the room and now sunlight poured through it. Ariadne had taken to sitting on the comfortable looking couch, tilting her head back and resting it against the back of the couch. It exposed more of her neck than I was used to seeing because there was always some article of clothing around her neck.

"Can I get you anything?" I asked.

"No, but thanks. What about you?"

"I'm fine." I felt a strange sense of déjà vu come over me. It was like sitting in Mathews' office all over again. The perfect opportunity to ask or say something without anyone else around. I didn't get many of these chances working in the warehouse day to day.

"Ariadne?"

"Yeah?"

"If you don't mind… I was wondering if you could tell me what Limbo was like?"

"You've never been?" She brought her head up to look at me.

I chuckled. "Never. Surprised?"

"Only a little. I mean, it seems like you might've been there since you've been into extraction much longer than me. Like you had more chances to mess up and go there accidentally."

I shrugged, "Never been."

"Well… when I was down there with Cobb, he had built this large city with Mal. It sat right next to this gorgeous beach. That's where we washed up. It looks like it used to be really pretty, but all the buildings had started to crumble and fall. He had built things from memory and some he made up. But there was so much space down there; like you could walk or design forever and there would still be plenty of room. But it was…forbidding in a way. It was cold and… I'd prefer that that be my first and last visit there. "

I nodded solemnly, unsure of what to say to that. "Well…Yusuf's working with Cobb, so hopefully we won't have to worry about that. Again, we'll keep you safe." I liked saying those words. They proved that I cared about her, without giving away just _how_ much I cared.

"Arthur?" she asked slowly.

The last time she started a question like this, a really hard inquisition came out of her mouth next. So I braced myself as I said, "Yes?" I went and sat on the couch next to her.

She waited until I had made myself comfortable before she said, "Do we… do we have something between us? I mean, there was the night at Mathews' office, and Eames says we've been giving each other looks, and there was the kiss in the Fischer job, and today… I thought I felt something between us."

Leave it to Ariadne to ask _the_ most terrifying question ever.

I looked at her. Her and all her perfection, creativity, innocent dark eyes, and irresistible charm.

She had started a miniature war inside my head. The less rational part of it saw me pressing my lips to hers in response, making my feelings for her clear. She would draw back smiling because I had erased every doubt in her mind that we weren't anything more than co-workers. The more rational part of it saw me shaking my head and denying to longing and burning urge I had to take our relationship further. _Don't let me love you_, I wanted to say.

The rational part won.

"Ariadne…I didn't feel anything today." I felt the world of hidden moments with her, stolen glances that made me want to look more, and the connection we had shared shatter around me. The worst part was that I didn't know how to pick up and reassemble the pieces.

It was the most untruthful thing I had ever said. Her small body on top of mine and her lips just within my reach had sent a sensation I'd never felt through me. The only thing that kept me from wrapping my arms around her slender waist and keeping her there with me was Cobb and Eames' presence.

I looked at her, but she wouldn't meet my eyes. I saw them glaze over in unshed tears. The pain in the air was practically palpable. I wish I could take my words back, but they had been spoken and there was nothing I could do. It hurt me to just sit there and watch as her delicate composure crumbled to show the pain that I kept perfectly masked and locked in my head.

"I understand," she whispered.

I stretched out my hand, placing it on top of hers and she flinched. "I'm sorry, Ariad-"

"I understand." she repeated and jerked her hand away. "I get it. Just go."

I silently stood, and made my way to the door, placing my hand on the handle. I realized this was the last chance to say something. All that came out was, "I'm sorry."

_Pathetic_, I thought. _You saw what you just did to her, and all you could do was say 'sorry'?_

No matter how hard I tried to convince myself that what I had just done was for the better, I couldn't make myself believe it. I couldn't shake the longing to go up and beg for her forgiveness and make her believe that I did really feel something.

I pulled open the door and walked out. Out of what might've been.

* * *

I sat on the couch for a long time, letting the tears fall without my consent. No sound escaped my throat, though it burned with a strangled cry that threatened to escape. I pressed my lips together, bringing my knees up to me and hugging them, trying to hold myself together.

I had seen the perfect opportunity to take a risk and make a bold move; to put a lot on the line. To put everything on the line.

_Why not?_ I had thought. This sickness had probably given me this 'seize the day' feeling. _The outcome can't be that bad. There's so much evidence, he couldn't possibly deny it all._

But he did, with four simple words: I didn't feel anything.

I felt my stomach lurch and I ran to the bathroom, feeling more sick than I ever have.

A/N: Please don't hate me. I promise to make Arthur pick up the pieces of what he broke. I'll get you the next chapter asap. Reviews are awesome! Thanks you for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Hey guys! I'm so sorry about the confusing points of view last chapter. Hopefully it'll be clearer this time around. Let me know if it's not. Enjoy!

Ariadne

The next two nights I would lie in bed thinking about Limbo. Not just the physical appearance and appeal of the place, but what had happened there.

I could distinctly remember throwing Fischer off of the top of the sky scraper. Poor guy probably didn't know what was happening to him until he hit the ground.

I think I could now relate.

Arthur had put me on my sky scraper of euphoria with his lovely smile, praise for my work and arm draped over my shoulder as we climbed the steps to my apartment.

When he asked me what Limbo was like, I took that as a sign that he could trust me with a question as personal as that. I had little experience, but it seemed to me that there was an intimate air surrounding Limbo in the extraction world. Like its name should be whispered in dark corners and scarcely used only when necessary. Arthur – reserved, polite, withholding Arthur - asked me about my experiences with this place. Wasn't it reasonable for me to think that this meant something?

But immediately after, he'd tossed me off that sky scraper and proceeded to walk out the door.

I didn't know what was happening until I smacked into the ground. I had been standing on top of the highest point I knew.

I couldn't be mad at him. It was me who had asked the question and I got the answer. I quickly gave up on trying to decide what to feel, partly because my head was muddled with this illness and partly because there were way too many emotions swirling around in my mind for me to distinguish one from the other.

My bishop was never more than six inches away from me after that. I had to constantly make sure that this feeling of free fall wasn't a sign that I was sleeping. It was like he had given me a kick out of a perfect dream, but I was stuck somewhere between asleep and awake.

I used the time at home my sickness had given me to do three things. One, finish the first and second levels. Two, attempt to get better. Three, figure out what to do about Arthur. The last one was easier said than done.

I managed to soldier through my tossing stomach and aching head and complete the second level quickly. It really wasn't that hard since it was supposed to be a rather non-descript place; just an alley way between two shadowy buildings. Of course, it had to be realistic enough for Mathews to think it was authentic, which was the tricky part since I had so little to work with.

Soon after that, I completed the first one for Eames. I drew mainly from my one experience at a bar. It had been my friend's birthday party and I returned home unhappy that night, scaring me off from visiting places like those again, which was probably a good thing. So I had that and movies to go off of. After redrawing it five different times, it didn't turn out half bad as I expected it to. Hopefully it would be good enough for Cobb and Eames. As soon as I finished it with a final flourish, I collapsed back onto my pillows, massaging my temple.

_Ring!_

The sound pierced the peaceful quiet and agitated my sorely aching head. Groaning, I dragged myself up out of my bed, and wandered into the living room where the phone sat on the coffee table.

Plopping down on the couch, I picked it up, "Hello?" My voice sounded horribly hoarse.

"Ariadne? Hey, it's Cobb."

_Thank goodness,_ I thought. "Oh, hey. I was going to call you later, but I guess you beat me to it."

"Oh, I'm just checking up on you. How have you been feeling?"

"Crappy the last few days, but I definitely think it's getting better. I think I can go back to school tomorrow."

"That's good, that's good. I bet you haven't left the house at all though. Is there anything I can get you?"

"I'm fine actually. I really haven't done much the past few days, so I'm fine."

"But I'll bet you've finished the levels?"  
I laughed, "You got me."

"Yeah, I figured. So, just so you know, Jones is delivering Mathews to us tomorrow at six, so be at the workshop by then."

"Oh my gosh! I totally forgot!" I put my face in my hands. _Stupid sickness_, I thought_, totally throwing me off balance_. The things I had been thinking about the past few days were very limited. Mainly, my thoughts consisted of dream levels, Arthur and sleeping. The due date of all that had escaped me. "The job is tomorrow, isn't it?"

"Mm-hm."

I let out a frustrated sigh, running my hand through my hair. "I still have to show Eames the first level."

"And me the second," he finished, "Look, don't worry-"

"Too late." I muttered under my breath.

I heard him chuckle lightly. "Don't worry. We've got all of today and tomorrow. It'll be fine. Are you feeling well enough to get out?"

"Yeah, it's no fun being stuck inside all day."

"I know what you mean. Look, I'll come get you. We can meet Eames and get this all out of the way."

"Alright. So, I'll see you in ten?"

"Sounds about right. See you then." The line disconnected.

I fumbled around my room, grumbling about failing at my job. Part of me said I wasn't a failure, but the fact that I had forgotten was making me uncomfortable.

I found presentable clothes and applied make up for the first time in three days. I gathered together all my sketches, and slipped them into my messenger bag. I looked in the mirror multiple times for good measure, changing my scarf three times before settling on a light blue one.

_Knock, knock._

"It's open!" I called, as I secured my totem in my pocket. Emerging from my room, I found Cobb in front of my kitchen.

"You look a lot better." He said.

"I feel a lot better."

He smiled as he pulled the door open for me. "I was able to teach Arthur his dream," he said as I locked the door behind us.

I held back a flinch, and resisted the temptation to reach into my pocket and feel the reassuring metal in my palm. I hadn't spoken or heard his name out loud in a few days, and hearing his name out loud did something weird to my pulse. I nodded as I prayed that I still had a straight face on, "Good. One down two to go."

Arthur

The workshop seemed oddly empty during the days after I left her apartment that night. Like it needed to be filled with something to bring it to life. It had the essence of an unfinished puzzle that was missing just one of its pieces, but that one piece made all the difference. It didn't take me long to figure out exactly what – who – was missing.

I kept telling myself that what I had done was for our own good, but no matter how hard I forced the thought into my mind, I couldn't make myself believe it.

I had to do it. I'd promised to keep her safe, and that's what I was doing.

For some reason it didn't feel right.

I didn't deny to myself that I missed her. Every day that she didn't come to the warehouse, I fought the urge to call and see if she was okay. _You can't do that anymore_, I reminded myself, _you've single-handedly burned that bridge. _I couldn't shake the feeling that she was staying home to avoid me, even though I plainly knew that she was sick.

I'd built up a dam in my mind against everything Ariadne. I kept her locked in the back of my mind, always threatening to break free. I locked away her laugh, smile, scent, lips, voice, all of it. It all had to go if I wanted to get through this.

I was shaken out of my thoughts by the sound of the door opening.

"…it'll work fine." Cobb was saying to someone.

"If you say so." My heart skipped a beat at the sound of that sweet voice.

I was perfectly prepared to be reserved and distant, but I didn't know how well that plan would work in her presence. So I kept my head down and focused on the computer screen in front of me. I was double checking all the information I had dug up over the past week, making sure that all the knowledge we had was true and real.

I remembered the last time I had finished double checking information on our mark, Fischer. I thought I was the last one here, so I went around flipping off the lights. I stumbled upon the scene of Cobb and Ariadne, both connected to a PASIV. They looked as if they had been under for a while, and I considered waking them up. But she looked so peaceful sleeping in the lawn chair with her dark hair flowing over her shoulders and pink lips slightly parted. I stood and watched her chest rise and fall for a moment before turning away, embarrassed that I had walked in on a seemingly private moment.

"Morning, Arthur." said Cobb. I nodded to him, not looking at Ariadne, fearing that my composure would dissolve if I did.

"Eames!" he called.

"He's not-" I started tell them that Eames wasn't in yet, but the clanging of the door announced yet another arrival. "here…" I trailed off. How did he always manage to do stuff like that?

"Morning everyone." He said, with his casual charm. "Ariadne! Feeling better, love?"

Normally, Eames' pet names didn't get to me at all, but as he offhandedly called her 'love' I felt a pang of jealousy go through me.

"Much." I heard her say, a slight smile in her voice.

"Good. Very good."

"I have sketches for you." she said and I heard a rustling of papers, "You can look over them while I show Cobb what I've got for him."

"Excellent, darling." He said and headed over to his desk. I doubted he'd take more than a glance at the papers before going under with her.

Cobb brought out one of the silver brief cases, and I heard him explaining the workings of the new sedative he and Yusuf had been perfecting to her. It wasn't exactly perfect, but it was close enough. On the first two levels down, we would wake up if we died, just like always. But as we went deeper, onto the third level, we would require more of the chemical to keep us under and stabilize all three levels. So if we died on the third level, it was a one-way ticket to Limbo.

But I wasn't worried. We would spend the least amount of time on the last level, and in Mathews' mind, the office was supposed to be empty so he probably wouldn't bring in too many projections. He wasn't even trained (I had double checked that fact a million times over) so there was no reason for us to be concerned about losing our minds on this job.

A minute later, I could hear the calming whirring of the machine, signaling that they were under.

I finally let my eyes wander to her sleeping figure. Her lovely hair flowed over her shoulders, her ankles crossed delicately, her pink lips parted slightly, and some color had returned to her cheeks. It was a shame her eyes were closed; she had beautiful eyes that could see right to your soul when she wanted them to.

"So, what happened?" asked Eames, glancing up from Ariadne's sketches.

"What?"

"What happened between you two?" He waved his hand from her to me.

"And what would lead you to the conclusion that something had happened?" I sneered, maybe a little harsher than I had intended.

He merely laughed, "You didn't look at each other at all. You both had your heads down."

I grimaced, refocusing on my computer, "I don't want to talk about it." I said, hoping to end the conversation.

No such luck. "You sure? I could offer some insightful advice, you know."

I laughed, "Your admirable insights are always welcome, Eames. Except in this situation."

I heard a creaking of a chair and looked at as he waltzed over and seated himself on top of my desk. A smug look played on his face. I rolled my eyes and shut my laptop.

"Can I help you?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"Yes. What happened?"

I sighed pinching the bridge of my nose, "Will you go away if I tell you?"

"Maybe."

"Will you tell Cobb?"

He pursed his lips, considering. "Depends." he said carefully.

I fingered my die in my pocket. If Eames were anyone else, I could brush them off. But he didn't give up easily, and Eames wasn't anyone else, so my options here were limited.

I gave him a hard look, "Not a word to her, do you understand?"

He nodded, "Of course, darling."

I scrutinized his expression, wondering just how much I should tell him.

"Well, she asked me if there was… anything between us and….wait a minute."

"What?"

"She said that you said we had been giving each other looks. Did you talk to her like this too?"

"I might have." He shrugged.

"Eames, don't play games with me."

"Okay, so I pointed out the fact that you two are slowly but surely growing closer, so what?"

I looked him incredulously. I wasn't sure whether to feel betrayed, left out of a mix of both. "I would've liked to hear that conversation." I muttered. "But the bottom line is… we won't be growing close anymore."

He let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head slowly. "I knew this would happen."

"Stop pretending to be all-knowing. Knew what would happen?"

He chuckled, "I'll try. I knew you would reject her."

"'Rejected' is a bit harsh."

"Sad but true. You think your protecting her don't you?"

"Yes. I told her I'd keep her safe."

He sighed. "Arthur, pull your hand out of your pocket."

I did so.

"No, no. Take you totem out with it."

I took out my die, setting it on the table in front of me.

"Tell me, Arthur, why a die?"

"Why not? Why a poker chip?"

"That's a different story for different time. The point is it's a _die._ You can't predict the outcome. It's completely spontaneous. But _you_ like to know what happens next. You're always two steps ahead, like a chess player." He gave me a knowing look, "But in order to check that what you see is real, you relay on something completely erratic."

"It's a _loaded_ die. That's why I relay on it."

"It's only loaded half the time. In the other half, you're dreaming."

I considered this for a moment. Who knew he could be this thoughtful? "Go on."

"Do something that you don't know the outcome of for once. You knew what would happen when you rejected her. It was predictable. Now you're both heart broken – "

"I wouldn't say – "

"You're heart broken. It's written all over your faces, darling. Anyway, if you told her the truth, you don't know what will happen."

"That makes it harder for me to keep her safe."

"Arthur, would you trust her with anyone else?"

"No, not really."

"Then she won't be any less safe when you tell her the truth."

"Who says I'm going to tell her the truth?"

"I am, because I will not have you two sorry, dismal people walking around with frowns on your face when the other walks in the room. This can't go on forever."

"And I'm guessing I don't want to find out what you'll do if I don't tell her?"

He laughed and shook his head, "No, you don't."

I rolled my eyes, "I'll admit you're good, but you can be annoyingly manipulative sometimes."

"One of my many talents." He said.

I glanced at her again and all my will power crumbled and settled somewhere near my feet. "I really hate it when you're right."

He shrugged, indifferent. "You can thank me later." And walked away, returning to the sketches, looking as if nothing had happened.

_After the job_, I decided. I could tell her after the job. After I was sure that I could keep her safe during jobs and not let my emotions get in the way of what needed to happen while in the dreams.

I looked at her again. I knew that even in dreams, I would never find a person quite like her.

A/N: Okay, maybe that was a bit of a filler. But there's more where that came from. Tell me what you think! Thanks for reading! :)


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Hey guys! Thanks again for your fantastic reviews! This chapter rewrote itself a million times, so I hope it finally got it right! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I once dreamed that I owned Inception. But it was only a dream. So I don't actually own Inception.

Ariadne

"How old is this guy again?" I asked as two of Jones' men unceremoniously plopped a very young looking Mathews down onto one of our cherished lawn chairs. It struck me that he looked extremely similar to Jones with his brown hair and lean figure. They dressed similarly too; his suit easily appeared as if it was custom made.

"These business men are all the same," muttered Eames behind me, as if reading my thoughts.

"He's thirty." Arthur answered my question, slipping an IV into our mark's forearm, before taking a seat next to him and hooking himself up too. He glanced up at me and I nodded curtly ignoring the soft, tender look in his eyes. Ever since yesterday, he'd been giving me sympathetic looks as if to say he was sorry over and over again. But I didn't want his or anyone else's sympathy. I simply looked the other way, literally turning the other cheek, at his compassionate eyes and pressed lips. I acted aloof, business-like, and professional. _Give him a taste of his own medicine for once_, I thought.

I'd forfeited our love game. Given up. There was no point. The game hadn't even existed. I'd dreamt the entire thing up.

"Well, he looks like he could be twenty to me." I said, focusing on the task at hand.

"The perks of having a lot of money," said Eames, "You can pay people to keep you looking young."

I laughed wryly as I too took a seat and slid a needle into my own vein. I looked over to Cobb who was exchanging a few final words with Jones. They kept shooting glances over to Mathews with cocky, smug eyes; this was to be expected of our client, but I'd never seen that look on Cobb before. With a handshake and curt hand gestures from Jones, he and his men were out the door and left us to do the dirty work.

"Everyone ready?" asked Yusuf, who was seated next to the PASIV. He would be staying out of the field this time, which was exactly how he preferred it.

"Just about," said Cobb sliding into a chair and taking an IV from Eames. I found it hard to believe that this was only my second job with them. It felt like my sixth or something. With a final nod from Cobb, Yusuf pressed the faded yellow button in the middle, releasing the new powerful sedative, and we were under.

I found myself sitting at a stool at the bar I had created. The wooden counter stretched in a box around the middle of the space while there were tables and booths set up around the walls. Looking to my right, I found Mathews and Eames as Jones sitting next to each other on stools like mine. I noticed that they both eagerly indulged in the bottles placed in front of them. They conversed excitedly with lit up expressions. Even from here, I could see that Eames was doing his job perfectly, as expected.

Not too far from them was Cobb, sitting alone at one of the tables. I glanced around for a bag of some sort to busy myself with, but my eyes caught something else. Arthur sat with a solemn look a few seats down from me on my right, running his finger around the rim of a glass that appeared untouched. He was dressed in a sleek, black leather jacket, much like the one he had worn on the first level of the Fischer job. It was the only thing that I had ever seen him wear besides a suit which long ago had become repetitive. Underneath, he wore a thin, plain T-shirt and I reminded myself that it was impolite to stare.

He looked the way I would expect him to look on a job. The reserved, no funny business look I knew so well was clear on his face.

Mentally slapping myself, I resumed my search for a bag. None was to be found.

"Excuse me, miss? Your glass looks empty. Can I buy you another?" I jerked me head up to find myself staring back at a projection with eerily light green eyes and sandy blonde hair.

_Good gosh_, I thought. This guy was either Mathews' or Eames' projection and there were very few things that I wouldn't give up to find out whose.

"I-uh…" I didn't want to deny the projection and risk making Mathews' subconscious suspicious. I shot a look of desperation at Cobb, but his head was turned the other way. I felt my heart speed up as I wished he had taught me more about projections because I seemed to keep running into situations with them.

"Oh, come on." He said, sliding into the seat next to me, "One won't kill ya."

Finding my voice, "I'm actually not -"

"Sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean to keep you waiting." Came a voice from behind me as I felt a hand rest on my shoulder.

I turned to find Arthur standing with a soft smile on his face and I fought the urge to not cringe away. I caught the deliberate look in his eye and quickly stood up, wrapping my arms around his waist for a quick hug, playing along. _Damn it all, _I thought.

Pulling back, I said, "Oh, you weren't gone too long. This man here was simply keeping me company, weren't you?" I asked, coating my voice with poison.

The look on Blondie's face was priceless. He quickly got up, looking down and mumbled something unintelligible as he stumbled away.

"What are you doing?" I hissed, as soon as he was out of ear shot.

Arthur slid into the seat that Blondie had occupied. "Saving you from a complicated situation."

I gave him a hard look as I sat back down, "I don't need saving. I had it under control."

He shrugged, "Maybe. But it's better that I handled it. Doing my job and all."

"And where does 'saving' me fall in your job description?" I replied bitterly, trying to get a reaction that wasn't indifference out of him.

He shook his head, "Wrong job."

"You're more than the point man here?"

"My job to keep you safe."

I snapped. "You keep throwing that excuse at me and I never know what to say to it! If you really don't feel for me, what does it matter to you if I drop into Limbo or talk to a projection? Why do you care? You don't owe me anything. I don't need your protection, Arthur!"

"Not here, Ariadne." He said, gripping my forearm, a firm and finalness to his voice. It was a command.

I shook off his grasp. "Fine." I spat, swiveling around my seat so that I angled away from him, like a child, even though it pained me to do so. There was _so_ much more I wanted to say.

The next ten minutes passed slowly as I waited for the screeching of Cobb's chair to alert me that we were done here. I listened to the hum of voices around me and the clinking of glasses.

The worst part was knowing that Arthur was right there. So close that I would occasionally catch the scent that I had caught on his note, and I would hear it every time he shifted in his seat. Serious voices and drunken laughter floated over from behind me. I vaguely wondered if the dream-alcohol was doing anything to Eames' system down here.

At long last, I heard a squeal of a chair and I knew that Eames as done. Pushing my empty glass away from me, I got up and walked out the door without a backwards glance.

Turning right, I ambled into an alley way and picked up the PASIV that was waiting for us, like it should be. First came Cobb with Eames –Jones – who were dragging Mathews' drugged body by his shoulders around the corner.

"How'd it go?" asked Cobb, as they laid him down on the asphalt, in the shadows, away from the light that the nearby street lights gave off.

"Better than I expected. It was as if _he_ was reminding _me_ of all details and figures. You shouldn't have any trouble down there."

"It's almost too easy." I mused.

Eames laughed, "Well, coming back from our last job, anything will be easy compared to that."

Finally, Arthur casually shuffled around the corner and took the case from my hand, helping the other two hook up the mark.

"You've got half an hour starting when you're under." Eames said to Arthur as IVs were passed around.

"Just take care of our bodies and give us the kick in time." He replied.

"Wouldn't dream of anything happening to them. No pun intended."

I saw Cobb and Arthur roll their eyes. British humor.

"All set?" he asked once we were all set up.

With an approving grunt from Cobb, we were off again. Opening my eyes, I found myself surrounded by settings very similar to those of the first level. But that was the point; to make an easy, realistic, seamless transition for Mathews. I was across the street from where I had been put to sleep.

Looking out across the boulevard, I found Mathews, looking very smug leaning effortlessly against the building. Arthur stood, with his easy grace, a few feet from him. And just as he had promised a few days ago, his expression showed something resembling menace. It was actually kind of scary to see him like this. I'd seen him with practically every other emotion, but nothing that chilled me to the bone like this.

From our distance, I couldn't make out anything that they were saying, but it appeared as if Mathews was willing to listen to another business proposition, which worked greatly in our favor. A few people milled about the street, doing nothing in particular.

Beside me, Cobb stiffened. "What is it?" I asked.

"Look," he said, pointing to a group of four or five projections congregating across the street next to the alley. They kept shooting glances into the dark and wore serious expressions. It only took one flash of a gun for Cobb to leap into action.

"So his subconscious got smart." I said.

Nodding, he reached into his jacket, and handed me his spare gun. "You think I know how to use this?" I exclaimed.

"It's just for emergencies, and you'll figure it out. I've seen you do it before."

"That was on impulse. What's the plan?" I asked.

"We can't have them hanging around Arthur while they're still talking. You circle around to the left and get their attention. I'll go to the right and take them down from behind."

Before I had a chance to say anything , he was walking down the street. Putting on a poker face, I started to walk in the opposite direction, casually approaching the group who paid me no mind as I grew closer to them. Drawing closer to the alley, I could hear Mathews' and Arthur's voices floating around from inside.

"Hey!" I called to the group and they all turned towards me as planned. Also as planned, four gunshots rang out, knocking down the whole group. I turned to see if Mathews had noticed anything. He hadn't even flinched. It was scary how oblivious people could be while asleep. Arthur didn't break his composure either; it was if he had been expecting it.

Cobb placed his hand on my shoulder, drawing me out of Mathews' line of sight. "Remember what I told you." He said.

"What'd you say?"

"Don't die."

I smiled, "Where's the faith, Cobb?"

"It's in there." He said before snapping his head up.

I heard it too. Music. _Non, je ne regretted rien…_

"That's our cue." He said and we both turned at the sound of a _thud _from the nearby alley. Walking in, we found Mathews on the ground and Arthur already working the PASIV with nimble hands.

"How'd it go?" asked Cobb.

"Not bad. The idea is in place for now. He needed some convincing, but that was to be expected. I think he might go for it."

"I guess we'll find out." I said, slipping in the IV.

"What was all the gunfire?"

"Just some suspicious projections. Be careful; down there it'll be worse. You've got fifteen minutes." said Cobb.

"We'll be fast." I said, as I felt the fluid flow into my veins.

Opening my eyes again, I was sitting in Mathews' chair in his office. The safe sat in plain sight under his desk, waiting to be opened. I knew the combination to it, I kept repeating it in my head. Now it just needed to be filled with the information. I set my gun on the table, watching it in the florescent bathed light.

I sat up straight as I heard voices coming from the hallway and I silently crept up to the door in order to hear what they were saying and to hear Arthur's cue when it came. Unfortunately, the voices were muffled by the door. I gripped the handle lightly, turning it as slowly as possibly before letting it slid open ever so slightly.

"I like you Mr. Conroy." Mathews was saying. 'Conroy' must be the name Arthur was operating under, as not to give away his real name.

"That's much appreciated, sir, but-"

"But as you know, I've already committed myself to another company. My hands are tied; there's nothing I can do. Believe me when I say I'm sorry."

"Sir, if you were really willing to accept my proposal, you would end your contract with them immediately. I know you can. A man like you doesn't make a deal without a way out if things go wrong."

I heard Mathews let out a heavy sigh. "You'll have to give me time. This is very abrupt."

"I understand, sir." There was a pause. "My offer still stands." I heard the sound of paper being slapped onto a table. "In case you change your mind."

_Change your mind._ Those words were my cue. I shut the door as quietly as I had opened it and rushed back to the safe. Kneeling in front of it, I twisted the knob. Twelve to the right, four to the left, and thirty-six to the left again. With a quiet click, the door flew open revealing a single sheet of paper inside. Taking it out, I was met with an overwhelming amount of information and the word 'Confidential' displayed diagonally in red across the page.

I skimmed down the page, trying to weed out the information that was not important and the information that was. Working quickly and piecing together all the official sounding words that I read, I realized that they all pointed in one direction. Mathews would stick with Jones. He couldn't and wouldn't be swayed by any other business proposals once he made a commitment.

"Ariadne!" Arthur called briskly from the hallway. Mathews must be out.

I slipped the sheet back into the safe, locking it back in before standing up and heading out to meet Arthur.

"Where's the case?" he asked, as he positioned Mathews' knocked out body in a way that gave us easy access to his forearm. He refused to meet my eyes.

"In here. I'll get it." I half mumbled, snatching the case from off of the desk.

We worked silently, avoiding each other's gazes as we set up Mathews so that he would wake up a few minutes after us, giving Jones' men enough time to take him back to wherever to came from. According to the watch on Arthur' wrist and the floating music about the room, we had ten minutes until Cobb and Eames gave us the kick back up.

Arthur had his back turned and was sliding the business card he had slapped onto the table back into his pocket when I heard it. The sound of breathing from behind us.

I spun on my heel to find a man with gun trained on Arthur, the dreamer. He wasn't even looking at me.

There was no time to run and get my gun back off of the desk, no time to warn Arthur or shove him out of the way. There was only time to throw myself at the shooter as I saw his finger tighten on the trigger.

_Bang! _

I had only meant to shove the shooter's aim off, but as I found myself falling towards the ground, I realized I had done something much worse. Something Cobb told me not to do. Get shot.

_Bang!_

_No!_, I thought, thinking that the shooter had finally hit his original target, but sight of the projection hitting the floor told me that it was Arthur who had pulled the second trigger.

"Ariadne!"

I could feel the tears rolling down my face as I fought to keep the screams inside me. I clutched my chest, feeling warm wetness soak my hand. It hurt like hell.

But what hurt more was knowing where I was going. I could feeling myself slipping away. But I was going in place of him, and despite everything, that helped ease the pain. Despite the fact that he could never love me back, it helped.

"Ariadne, stay with me. Only a few more minutes." I could hear his voice above me as his face swam into view. His pretty, perfect face creased with worry. I wished I could reach up and smooth out those lines. "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry."

I laughed weakly, though it hurt. "Sorry for what? You didn't shoot me."

"For not keeping my word. Stay with me." He repeated. I thought I must've imagined it when I thought I heard his voice brake.

"You've saved me too many times. I thought I might return the favor."

"You didn't do very well." I felt his warm hand grip mine as his beautiful face started to fade from view.

I numbly shook my head and smiled as I said one more thing before letting my eyes close. "Yeah, it was worth a shot."

A/N: Mad at me? Yeah, I figured. Let me know what ya think. Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Hey! As always, your reviews are the best things that have ever been mine! ;) Enjoy!

"No!" I cried, as her eyes slipped closed, shutting me out from the light that came from them.

In the end, it didn't matter how many times I kept her out of trouble or took her under my wing. Because in the end it was _her_ who saved me.

"No, no, no, no, no. Stay with me…Stay with me." I kept repeating, but in the back of my mind I knew it was all in vain.

I held her hand closer to me as the pain washed over me. I'd lost her. Her mind was gone. Her brilliant, talented, curious, fiery, beautiful mind.

Eames had been wrong; I hadn't been heart-broken then. I was heart-broken now. The one who made me whole and complete was the one to finally break me. I didn't know it was possible to feel this empty until now.

I couldn't draw my eyes away from her face. It was peaceful, bordering on happy. Happy to die for someone who she believed didn't care about her. I felt disgusted with myself. I'd let all those opportunities pass us by when I should have been embracing each and every one.

I felt a lurch in my stomach and I realized I had been kneeling here for longer than I thought. I squeezed her hand one more time before letting the sensation of the kick over take me. I rose to the surface and arrived back in reality with a shock.

"Put me back under." I gasped, struggling to maintain my calm composure.

Cobb gave me a worried look. "Why?"

"Ariadne didn't make it. She's in Limbo." The words cut through me like ice. I didn't bother to give an explanation on why she had ended up there.

His eyes darted to Ariadne's sleeping figure and shut his eyes, letting out a long breath while the other two remained silent, staring at one another with eyes full of fear. I knew Cobb and Ariadne were close. They had clicked almost instantly, bonding over the similar interest of dream-architecture. She had been our apprentice of sorts and was just starting to let her full potential show. I could see how this blow crushed him.

"Yusuf, make sure Mathews gets out of here." he mumbled without looking up as a knock on the door came. Yusuf got up without a word to answer it. I felt a twinge of gratefulness towards him.

Silently, a couple of bulky looking men came in and dragged the mark away in the same fashion in which they had brought him: like they would like nothing better than to drop him face-first on the floor.

"How long has she been there?" asked Cobb, finally looking at me.

"She dropped a few minutes before the kick."

He let out a frustrated sigh, "Letting you go down with her would be risky. With the compounded time, she's already been down there long enough to loose herself, and we've already-"

"Let him go." said Eames, speaking for the first time.

Cobb looked at him with an incredulous expression. "Put him under." Eames repeated firmly. He wouldn't meet my skeptical gaze. I could Cobb he knew he was missing something, but didn't inquire.

Cobb looked back at me, "Are you sure?"

I nodded and slid a new, clean needle under my skin. "How'd you do it?" I asked, "When you stayed for Saito, how'd you get him back?"

Cobb pursed his lips before saying, "We made a sort of pact between us when he was shot. He said that I'd find him and we'd be young men together again. That was his reality; he trusted that I would bring him back. Once I found him, I had to remind him of that reality. And that's what convinced him to come back to with me."

"Remind her of her reality?" I clarified.

He nodded. _Okay, simple enough_, I thought. _If I can ever figure out exactly what her reality is._

Before I had the chance to say anything, Eames pushed the button on the PASIV and felt my body go limp.

The first sensation I felt was that of falling. The second was drowning. I was surrounded in cold, salty water. I fought against the gravitational pull that pulled me downwards, pushing myself solely on the flow adrenaline pumping through me. Just as I thought my lungs would give out from the lack of oxygen, my head broke the surface. Looking around, I found myself about twenty yards out from the shore of a white-sand beach. I swam forward to the sand and once my feet touched the sand, I walked, fighting the water that resisted against my ankles with each step.

Finally reaching shore, I squinted against the sun to look at what else had been placed here by Ariadne. I hadn't expected the ocean, so I wasn't sure what else I would find.

_So this is Limbo_, I thought. Her words from that fateful day floated back to me. She said Cobb had built a spectacular city next to a beach. She seemed to have copied that part, but I remember her telling me that the buildings had begun to crumble. These buildings didn't show any signs of falling any time soon.

It was eerily quiet with no projections in sight. I made my way toward the street and saw that this place was a bit more like a maze than usual. Already, I could see dead ends, and obvious forks in the road. The buildings were designed so that you couldn't cut through them; you had to follow the path of the street.

I wandered for a few minutes, unsure of where to start. My clothes slowly started to dry as a light wind blew. Some buildings seemed to be experiments that she had tried. Like the one sky scraper that reached so high that I couldn't see the top no matter how far I craned my neck. Or the shop that had two paradoxical staircases leading up to it. I didn't even attempt to climb up them, through I'm sure she had multiple times.

I knew I had found her when I saw a building collapse a few blocks from where I was. The deafening roar in this vacuum of sound was unmistakable. After heading in the direction of the noise for a minute or two, I finally found what I was looking for.

She had placed a wooden bench in the middle of the street and motionlessly lay on her back with, staring up at the sky. In front of the bench was an open lot where the collapsed building probably used to be.

I took a few steps toward her before calling, "Ariadne?"

She shot upward and onto her feet, pulling a gun from nowhere. She pointed it at me and I could see that she was only moments away from pulling the trigger. _I've been here all of ten minutes and I've almost died twice. I can see why people hate this place,_ I thought.

"Don't shoot!" I called, raising my hands in surrender.

She smiled like the Cheshire cat, taking a few steps closer to me. "Why not? You're not real, just like the rest of them."

I figured she meant her other projections down here, though none were in sight now. "No, Ariadne." I said, softly, carefully. I could tell that she would need some coaxing. "I _am_ real. You're real. You're just asleep. And you need to wake up."

She laughed. "Don't tell me what I already know. I know I'm asleep. Of course I'm real. You, on the other hand are not." I heard the safety on the gun click off.

"No, wait! What if I can prove that I'm real?"

She shook her head. "You couldn't be. The Arthur I knew wouldn't come after me. Not after how I treated him." I remembered her lashing out at me on the first level, but I couldn't blame her. I probably deserved it. "Besides, you're my subconscious. There's nothing you can tell me that I don't already know."

"Your subconscious can't tell you what Cobb and Yusuf are doing right now."

She narrowed her eyes at me, considering. I saw her grip on the gun lessen ever so slightly and I relaxed a bit. "Go on."

"Right now, Yusuf is helping Jones' men get Mathews' body out of the workshop. Cobb is standing watch over both of our bodies while they're asleep." I put a heavy emphasis on the last word.

Her expression softened and a look of confusion flickered across her face. "Mathews… Cobb…" she mused, as if trying the names out on her tongue. I let her mull this over as I searched around in my mind for any idea of what her reality would be.

"Yes, Mathews and Cobb. You remember the extraction job, don't you?"

The sadistic smile returned as she said, "Of course I remember it. It's what landed me here."

"Then let's go back. Back to Cobb and Yusuf and Eames." I say, like I would to a small child.

She shakes her head. "You still haven't convinced me that you're real."

This conversation was like trying to find my way through a maze. One of her mazes, no less. Hitting dead ends, taking a new route, twisting and turning.

I tried a new angle. "How long have you been here?"

She sits back on the bench and says, "A few years. I lost track a while back." She purses her lips, obviously distracted and occupied by the lamp post across the street. I see it twist and bend, forming a new, abstract shape that only she could create. "That's better." she mumbles more to herself than me.

I take a risk by sitting next to her, but she doesn't move to shoot me again. "If you know you're dreaming, why don't you come back?"

She takes a long, good look at me, letting her eyes slide up and down my figure, before sighing and leaning back against the bench. "It feels so strange telling you this. It's like talking to myself, I guess. I'm here to try and get over the real version of you. I figure it's much easier to do here than it would be in the real world. And time moves faster here, so I'll be saving time too. I won't have to waste it anymore. Once I've come to terms with that, I'll wake myself up. It'll almost be like I was never gone. Gosh, it feels good to say that out loud."

"Where's your totem?" I interjected.

"Right here." She pulled out the small, golden bishop and placed it on the bench between us. "Do you know what happens in a chess game if one of the players purposely tips over her king?"

"It means they give up."

"Right, it means they surrender." She flicked at her totem with her index finger. It didn't even wobble. "It won't let me give up. Not here. Not until I know I can go on without you… or the real you. Then I can wake up. But I have to let you go." She smiles to herself as if something is funny.

A million thoughts flew through my mind. _The real you_. I wish she would stop saying that.

Then it hit me. Her reality was that she would move past me and get back to the real world. But what if I didn't want her to? What if she didn't have to?

"Ariadne," I let her name hang in the air for a moment, "Can I try to convince you that I'm real one more time?"

She slips her bishop into her pocket again and smiles. "Sure." she whispers, challenging me.

I cup her cheek lightly with my hand and slowly bring her closer to me. I can feel my stomach winding in knots, but I ignore it. _I should've done this long ago_, I thought. Once our lips are close enough, I see her brown eyes flutter closed in anticipation. Why she is letting me do this, I don't know. Closing my own, I place a kiss, just as chaste as our first, on her soft lips. We are both completely still and time stops as I feel my broken heart beat all too loudly in my chest. I'm sure it's the loudest sound in here. I push my hands through her silky hair and hold the kiss to my lips just a moment longer, softly caressing the back of her neck.

Releasing her, I open my eyes to find hers as wide as ever and staring at me as if I'm crazy.

"You _are_ real, aren't you?" she whispers in awe.

I feel a smirk come onto my face as I nod, and before I know it, she's thrown her arms around my neck, placing a much more passionate kiss on my lips. It's absolute heaven and I place my hands on either side of her face, mainly to make sure she stays here and also because I can't resist the temptation. The sensation of her lips against mine is almost too much for me. How many times had I imagined this scenario in my head? Yet none of those day dreams were anything compared to this. Her hands find their way to my chest and they linger there as she slowly pulls away. I can feel a sense of withdrawal shoot through me.

Her breathing's a bit ragged and we're both breathless as she says, "Now what do you feel?" I could feel her warm breath against my cheek.

I knew that she was referring to those regretted words I had spoken in her apartment. _I didn't feel anything._

"Like I need to apologize." I said. She looked me expectantly as she finally slides her small hands off my chest. "I lied to you because I thought it was for the best. But obviously, it wasn't. I thought that we might end up like Cobb… or Mal. I'm sorry."

She looks at me for a moment, and I'm scared of how she might react. Did I say it right? Will she forgive me? To my relief, she nods understandingly and a small smile appears on her face. "That's so typical of you."

"What?"

She holds up her hand. "I'm just saying that it's just like you to try at protect someone while keeping your distance. And I understand. But you know what you keep telling me? So much that it's beginning to bug me."

"That'll keep you safe."

"Exactly. Arthur, frankly I don't think anyone else can keep me as safe as you can. So trust me when I say I think it's impossible for us make the same mistakes they did." Then she gives a small gasp and I raise an eyebrow in question. "Of course that is if you want to be together." The words tumble out of her mouth quickly, and a blush appears on her cheeks as if she's embarrassed. "I mean, it's only if-"

I silence her by placing another soft kiss on her already swollen mouth. "Now," I say, "what on earth would make you think I wouldn't want to be with you?"

A laugh escapes her lips as she says, "I don't know."

I stand up and extend my hand to her. "Shall we?"

She grins from ear to ear, taking my hand firmly in hers. "I know a place."

She leads me down a couple blocks, making turns here and there. We walk in a comfortable silence, never letting our hands separate. Finally, she pushes open a door to a building and I gasp inwardly as I take in the surroundings.

"Copycat." I say.

"Hey, I'm the one who designed it."

She's rebuilt the ground level of the hotel I dreamt during the Fischer job. I wasn't sure how she planned to get over me with this here. She'd replicated everything down to the last detail. It was strange to see this place again after so long. Slowly, she led me up a staircase and towards the elevators, pushing the button to the roof.

"Arthur?" she says, as the car starts its ascent.

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever heard Mal's riddle?"

"Mal had a riddle?"

She nods, and this is news to me. "What was it?"

"You're waiting for a train," she starts as a _ding_ announces our arrival on the roof. We make our way over to the edge, hands still connected. "A train that will take you far away," I glance down at the drop, unafraid of the height. "You know where you hope this train will take you, but you can't know for sure. How can it not matter where this train will take you?"

I think about it for a moment, but come up empty. She steps on the ledge, inviting me to do the same. I look at her for an answer.

She places one more kiss on my cheek and moves her lips to my ear to whisper softly, "Because you'll be together."

And we fell.

A/N: In case you're wondering, no, that's not the end. I think there's still another chapter or two. If you want more than that, I'm wide open for suggestions! Tell me what ya think! Did I do it right? Thanks for reading! :)


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Hi everyone! I know some of you thought Ariadne was a bit out of character in the last chapter, but that was kind of my goal. Because she had lost herself in Limbo, I thought it would be fitting. But to each their own. I'm sorry for the delay, but here's the next chapter!

Disclaimer: Don't own Inception.

The house was everything I expected it to be. Two stories, small driveway, chestnut-brown door, and what looked like a cozy, grassy backyard. It was the kind of perfect house that only existed in movies or on TV. The sun was setting behind it, casting long, encompassing shadow over me. I could definitely see Cobb raising his kids here.

I made my way up to said door and knocked twice. I heard the pitter-patter of feet accompanied by juvenile laughter on the other side.

"Phillipa!" came a childish voice from the other side of the door, "Wait _up_!"

The next instant, the door opened about half way revealing a small girl with dark blonde hair and curious green eyes. She looked slightly like Cobb, but the little, grinning boy behind her would clearly grow to be the very image of his father.

"Hi," I said, squatting down to their height. So these were the children who I had helped reunite with their father. It was a bit of a relief to finally meet them in person.

The girl's eyes narrowed in concentration. "Are you…Ari… Ariad … Ariadme?"

I laughed lightly at her chopped pronunciation of my name. "Yes, I'm Ariadne."

She smiled in triumph. "Okay! Daddy said you were coming." She opened the door all the way to let me in. The first room I saw was the living room with a comfy looking couch and piano set in the corner. I wondered in the back of my mind who played. There was a sliding glass door across the room and I could see a baseball and a small plastic bat lying on the grass.

On my right was a stair case with pictures hung on the wall that followed it upward. I made a mental note to sneak a glance at the pictures later. As I followed Phillipa, who skipped down the hall with her brother tailing behind, I was led to a door that could only be the kitchen's. The counters were all spotlessly clean, there was an island with chairs placed around it, and on the far side of the room was a table with crayons and paper scattered across one side.

Sitting at the island was none other than Arthur, Cobb, and Eames, who all looked up as I came in the room. Phillipa made her way over to the table, resuming her coloring. I watched as James wordlessly wandered over to Cobb who picked him up to hold him on his knee. The perfect father-son picture. It was heart-warming.

"Daddy, who is she?" he asked.

"That's Ariadne, remember? Can you say 'hi'?" said Cobb who smiled at me.

"Hi!" he said enthusiastically, waving his tiny hand at me.

"Hello." I smiled, waving back as I went to stand in between Arthur and Eames placing a kiss on Arthur's cheek as he slid a protective arm around my waist.

"Ariadne, dear, nice of you to join us." said Eames.

"A pleasure," I said as Arthur pulled a chair over for me.

It had been a week or so since the Mathews job. We'd delivered the information I'd extracted to Jones and received payment a few days later. Simple as that. Now, we were waiting for our next job offer.

After waking up from Limbo, Arthur and I had made our feelings for each other 'painfully' clear to the rest of the team. Eames, who already knew everything, simply smirked. Cobb had glanced between us for a moment before smiling and saying, "I guess I should've seen it coming."

I went to school the next day and returned to Arthur patiently waiting at my door. It was all the little things like his smiles just for me, lips against mine, and appearances at my doorstep every day that I couldn't get over. But I didn't feel a need to get used to these things. I was perfectly happy feeling my heart skip a beat every time I opened my door to his face or feeling his hand grip mine. I don't think you were supposed to get used to being in love anyways.

I couldn't believe that what I had worked, cried, wished and hoped for was actually happening. All I'd wanted was Arthur by my side, and now that I had that, I didn't need anything else. I kept waiting to wake up to another day of distant eyes and pressed lips, but my bishop kept telling me that the love between us was real and I was ready to stay in this reality forever.

I took a sip of the drink that was in front of Eames. "Mm. What's that?"

"A bottle of some Pinot Noir I've been saving." said Eames. "Thought now was as good a time as any to bring it out."

Cobb had invited us to his summer house of sorts here in France. The idea intrigued me enough to come. I couldn't picture us, an extraction team, sitting around a bottle of wine chatting, chewing over the weather and other small talk. But here it was, happening right in front of me. The world of extraction never failed to surprise me.

"True." I said, and finished off his glass as he grimaced. "Where's Yusuf? I thought for sure I would be the last one here. The taxi took the long route."

"He said he was coming." mused Arthur.

"So how was school, love?" asked Eames, refilling his glass.

I laughed, "Well, mother, it was as good as can be expected. Designing the old fashioned way is only so exciting now."

"Sorry to have taken away the fun in that." said Arthur, but sounding like he really wasn't sorry at all.

I shrugged. "It's probably better for me. If I randomly decide to drop you guys someday, I'll have to get a _normal_ job." I teased.

"Oh, please. You think we'd actually let you go?" said Eames.

"Absolutely not."

"Good. Besides," he took another sip of his wine, "now that you're tied to Mr. Point Man here, you're in it for life."

"That's fine with me."

_Knock, Knock._

The kids jumped up and ran with juvenile force towards the door, practically tripping over themselves in anticipation. In her rush to get up, one of Phillipa's drawings fell to the floor, landing behind my chair. I picked it up to find the page filled with pictures of objects around the room. The bottle of wine, a candle, the clock over the sink, and a tissue box. They were all far from professional, but you could tell she'd put a lot of effort into every one by the multiple times she'd redrawn and crossed out things.

"You've got yourself an artist here." I said, looking at Cobb.

He smiled, "She's been doing that for a while now. She'll draw anything in sight. But it's probably just a phase."

I smirked, "Yeah, that's what _my_ parents said."

Cobb made a face as the kids came back to the room, followed by Yusuf. "Phillipa," I called, "You dropped this." I held the paper out to her.

She took the paper, "Thanks, Ariadme."

I smiled. "Hey, do you know how to make the box look like it's coming off the page?" I asked, pointing to the tissue box.

Her eyes widened in wonder. "You can do that?"

"Yeah, bring me a crayon. I'll show you."

She snatched a crayon off the table and pushed it at me as Yusuf exchanged greetings with the rest of the group.

"So first draw a box." I said, as she watched my every move carefully, "Then a line on top and a line on the side. Then you connect them. See?"

"Whoa." She said, "Let me try!" I handed her back the crayon and paper and watched as she tried to recreate my 3D box. She didn't do too bad actually. It was a bit more smutched than mine, but she was getting there.

"Like that?" she asked.

"Yep, that's it."

She smiled and skipped back to the chair, rejoicing in her small victory. "That was nice of you." said Cobb.

"Yeah, now that's all she'll be drawing for weeks." I said.

"Is that how it was with you?" asked Arthur.

I nodded, "Every time I learned something new."

Paradoxes had been one of my favorites to doodle in the corner of my notebook before I met Cobb. Arthur had no idea what he was doing when he showed me they could exist in the dream space.

"Miles taught you anything new lately?" asked Cobb as James climbed back on his knee.

I shook my head. "Nothing I could use in building. We're studying all the famous architects. Miles teaches like he was best friends with all of them."

Cobb chuckled. "Wouldn't be surprised if he did know one or two of them."

"Care for a glass, Yusuf?" asked Eames, already pouring a glass for him.

Yusuf hesitated, "I-well, it's only- I mean..."

"So, you'll drink on the job but not off?" asked Eames with a raised eyebrow. I snickered remembering how Yusuf couldn't keep his hands off the drinks that came with first-class seats on the Fischer job.

Yusuf looked defeated. "Oh, give it here." he said, snatching the glass. Eames grinned a Cheshire cat smile.

The next two hours were filled with laughter, stolen kisses on the cheek from Arthur, drinks from the bottle of wine, more stolen kisses and stories of past jobs.

"Remember that one time we we're working with Saltzman?" asked Arthur at one point, grinning.

Eames gave a low, dark chuckle before answering, "Yes."

I looked to Cobb for explanation. "Saltzman was an extra man we hired for a job where we would need two forgers." he said.

"What happened?"

"Well, he wasn't very smart."

"The guy was an idiot! Should've known it when he came in with different colored socks." said Eames.

"So while we were maneuvering to slip the sedative into the mark's drink, he accidentally took a sip. He was out cold."

"He spilt the rest of his drink on some poor lady on his way down," added Arthur.

"It completely messed up our rhythm. We couldn't move him to hook him up with the rest up us. It would've attracted too much attention."

"So you were short one forger. What'd you do?" I asked, amused.

"Improvised."

"You seem to do a lot of that. Who was doing the improv this time?

"I was." said Arthur.

"You can forge?" I asked, totally not expecting this.

Eames laughed, "Hardly, sweetheart."

Arthur grimaced. "Not normally, but what I did sufficed for what we were doing."

"Sufficed? We were lucky to get out of there with our limbs still attached."

"You're just jealous that I was able to do what took you years to do in ten minutes."

Eames simply shook his head and nursed his drink. "It was your first time. You could do better if you tried."

"I'll stick with research, thanks. Besides, I wouldn't want to steal your thunder."

"Of course not."

"Cobb, who plays that piano out there?" I asked.

"Mal did. But Phillipa knows a little, don't you honey?"

"What?" asked Phillipa, perking up from her coloring at the sound of her name.

"You've been practicing the piano, right?"

"Yes!" she jumped up from her chair, "Wanna hear, Ariadme?" she asked, taking my hand, pulling me up from my seat.

"I'd love to." I said, as I followed her back to the living room.

She plopped down on the bench and riffled through one of the well-worn music books that had been placed on the stand. When she found the page she was looking for, she placed it back on the stand and took a moment to get her hands in position before playing the first few cords. I think it was supposed to be a waltz, but her timing was off and it came out unbalanced and choppy. Her eyes never strayed from the music sheet in front of her. She hit a few wrong notes here and there, but continued to play proudly as if she were the best pianist in the world. It was adorable.

It lasted all of forty seconds, ending with one last full chord. She turned to me grinning when she took her hands off the keys.

"That was great, Phillipa!" I told her enthusiastically, giving her a small applause and squeeze on the shoulder.

"Thank you," she said, getting up from the bench, about to bounce back into the kitchen.

"Phillipa," came a voice from behind us, and I turned to find that Arthur had joined us. "Would you mind playing that one more time?"

She didn't need to told twice. She sat back down and picked up the uneven rhythm once more. Arthur held his hand out to me and I laughed as I took it.

"This is completely cheesy," I told him and he placed his hand on my waist and mine found his shoulder.

"But you're letting me do it," he said, smiling a triumphant smile. I loved that smile. It still knocked the breath out of me.

I laughed, "Fair enough."

Our feet found a tempo that carried well enough with the beat of Phillipa's music as we swayed in a slow circle. "Someone one told me you have next Monday off school," he said.

I smirked. "Someone?" _Or the point man in you?_, I added in my head.

"Someone." he confirmed.

I sighed, "Yeah, it's some French national holiday."

He nodded, "Any plans?"

"Now that you mention it, no. Did you have anything in mind?" I asked, fingering his tie.

He shook his head. "Nothing. Any ideas?"

I sighed and leaned my head against his chest, thinking. "I've lived here almost two years and guess where I've never been?"

"The Eiffel Tower?"

I laughed, "No. Being an architecture student, I've been _there_ multiple times."

"Not surprised. You sound like you're sick of it."

I shrugged, "I am. The novelty of it wears off quickly."

He laughed, at my bluntness no doubt. "Versailles?"

"Been there too. Although I wouldn't mind going back; it was amazing."

"Me either."

"You've been?" I asked, looking up.

He pursed his lips, "Yes, but I wasn't exactly on a school tour like I'm sure you were."

I laughed, "I should've known. What? Were you casing it?"

"You could say that. This job tends to take you places. It was beautiful. The Louvre?"

"Bingo."

He smiled warmly. "You'd like it there."

"Can we go?"

"Sure. We'll spend all day if you'd like."

"Careful, I might take you up on that."

"Good," he said, squeezing my hand as the music ended, "'Cause I meant it."

We followed Phillipa back into the kitchen as my heart soared with the idea of spending all day with Arthur. In the Louvre, no less. Having the interest in art I did, I'd probably be like a kid in an enormous candy shop all day. All the sudden, Monday couldn't come faster.

"There you two are. What took so long? Never mind, I don't want to know." said Eames.

"Oh, be quiet, Eames. We were dancing to Phillipa's lovely music. Weren't we, Phillipa?"

Phillipa nodded her answer without looking up from her paper. Something vibrated as Arthur and I returned to our seats and Cobb pulled his phone out of his pocket, looking at the number. He set James down as his eyebrows furrowed together. He stood up saying he'd be back in a minute. Arthur and Eames were already engaged in one of their light-hearted bickers-slash-conversations as Yusuf leaned over to me.

"I never got the chance to apologize." He said under his breath, as if he didn't want the other two to hear.

"Apologize? What for?"

He looked down, as if ashamed. "For not making a stronger, more perfected sedative. You had to endure Limbo again because it wasn't good enough. I shouldn't have been satisfied with what I had. I should've kept going. I'm sorry."

I was taken completely off guard. I didn't know Yusuf too well, but I considered him a friend none the less and I didn't want him walking around feeling guilty. It was my choice to stay in Limbo anyway, which wasn't fair to him.

"Yusuf," I said, with a sad smile, "You have _nothing_ to apologize for. It wasn't your fault a projection shot me. You didn't have anything to do with that. You did your best and I can't expect anything more. Besides, in the end, it all turned out fine, right?"

He smiled and I hoped I had comforted him to some degree. "Thanks Ariadne," I smiled in response.

At that moment, Cobb walked back in the room, running a hand through his hair. I didn't like the expression on his face. "Phillipa, can you and James go out to the backyard for five minutes?"

"Why?" came the quizzical response.

"I need to talk with the other grown-ups for a minute, okay?"

"Okay," she said, obviously reluctant to leave her coloring on the table. "Come on, James."

James followed behind her. Cobb didn't say anything until we heard the sliding glass door in the other room slide shut.

"That was Phillips."

"Phillips?" I asked, "Jones' competition?"

Cobb nodded.

I saw Arthur snap into business mode out of the corner of my eye. "What did he want?"

"A job."

Everyone could sense by the stricken look on Cobb's face that there was more to this. So I asked the question. "What _kind_ of job?"

"Inception."

Figures. I felt a sense of uneasiness settle over the room.

"On who?" asked Yusuf.

"Mathews." Eames let out a humorless chuckle. "He somehow got ahold of the information we extracted and gave to Jones. He wants us to change his mind."

I glanced around the room as Eames leaned back in his chair. "I don't like this," he said, "Getting mixed up in corporate politics like this could be tricky. I don't want another target on my back. Not to mention yours, Cobb."

Cobb and Arthur nodded their agreement. "One inception job is enough for me." said Arthur, "There's other teams that can risk their minds for him. It doesn't need to be us."

Cobb nodded. "A unanimous 'no', then?"

A murmur of agreement went around the room and Cobb sat back down, his face completely relaxed. Yusuf reached for the bottle, only to find it empty. "Shoot," he muttered, "I don't suppose you've got another one of these up your sleeve, do you?"

Eames looked genuinely disappointed. "Regrettably, no."

"It's getting late anyways," I said, looking at the clock hanging over the kitchen sink, "I've still got an essay to revise."

Cobb twisted around to read the clock as well. "And it's _well_ past the kids' bedtime."

Eames plucked up the bottle from the middle of the table, "I guess that's our cue. It was a pleasure spending tonight with all of you."

"Although the night's just started for you, hasn't it?" asked Arthur.

"You miss nothing, darling." He said, as he walked around the island towards the door.

Cobb got up. "Here, I'll see you out,"

Yusuf bid his good-byes and followed the other two out of the room. I pulled my phone out, scrolling through recent calls. "I guess I should call a cab." I said.

Arthur reached over, flipping my phone shut. "Don't be silly. I'll drive you."

I slipped my phone back and smiled. "If you say so." I said as Phillipa stuck her head back in the room.

"Can we come in yet? It's cold out there."

"Sure," I said and got up, "We should probably head out with the others."

Arthur got up, slipping his hand in mine. It was an automatic thing now.

"Are you leaving?" asked Phillipa.

"Yes, but it was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Phillipa." I said.

"Bye, Ariadme." She said, returning to her coloring for the last time that night.

James followed us out wordlessly, in search of his father. We bid our farewells at the door, thanking Cobb for inviting us and promising to see each other soon or whenever another job brought us together again.

"Bye Uncle Arthur!" called James as we walked down the drive way. It was the loudest I'd heard him speak all night. And he hadn't spoken much.

"Bye!" called Arthur, waving over his shoulder.

"Uncle?" I asked.

He nodded. "I've known them almost all their life. They took up the name a while ago. Phillipa will probably start calling you 'aunt' before you know it. She really likes you."

"She's a sweet girl. Reminds me of myself a bit when I was her age."

"She reminds me of you now. Never without paper or a writing utensil."

"Wonder what Cobb would think of another artist in the family."

"He'll never let her into architecture."

"No, not at the risk of tapping into extraction. She'll probably never know her dad is the world's best extractor."

"Probably not."

"Have a good time tonight?" I asked, switching subjects and letting myself lean into his side comfortably.

"Not quite."

"Why not?"

"Because," he said, stepping in front of me as we got to his car, "I haven't been able to do this yet tonight."

"Do wha-?" But I never finished my sentence because his mouth came crashing down on mine at that instant, kissing me roughly.

"Now," he said, lightly kissing my nose, "I've had a good night. Did you?"

I sighed, reaching up to finger his tie while his eyes searched my face expectantly. I smiled as I remembered the game we had been playing not long ago and I realized we had been playing towards moments like this where we were the only two people in the entire world; me holding him and him holding me. We'd made it through our love game. Not without a scar or two, but we came out of it together and that's all I cared about. He was finally mine and I had no intention of letting him, his perfection and love go anytime soon.

"Of course," I said and kissed him one more time. Wordlessly, we got into the car and he threw his die on the dashboard. Satisfied with the outcome, he put the keys in ignition. I drew my bishop out of my pocket and set it next to his die, tipping it over. I left it there, smiling contently at the image of the pieces to our love game side by side, proving the reality of this love.

His hand never left mine and the smiles on our faces never faded the entire way home.

A/N: Now, I _could_ end it here… or I could keep going. Which do you prefer?

So in case this is the end, thank you sooo much to all my wonderful, wonderful readers and reviews! You guys are the most amazing people ever! No lie.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Hello! So, I decided to go on. Just 'cause you guys are _so_ awesome! There'll probably be two or three more after this. Enjoy!

Arthur

"Why a loaded die?" she asked me from the passenger seat. Her pretty brown eyes were staring fixatedly on our two totems lying side by side on my dashboard.

"It was my sister's," I said.

"You have a sister?"

I nodded. "An older one."

"Are you close with her?"

I smiled; always so many questions. "Yeah, you could say that."

She made an intrigued face at my response, but instead asked, "How did you end up with her die?"

I hesitated for a moment and she jumped in, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I didn't mean to pry."

"No, no. It's fine," I assured her, "It's just that I haven't told anyone 'why' before."

"Why not?"

"It's simply never come up." I paused, to see if she was listening. "I come from a long line of thieves. My sister was a very skilled conman, er, woman. I looked up to her a lot when we were young. She practically raised me with my mom gone and dad drunk half the time. There was this light about her that drew people in. Maybe that's why she was so good at what she did. She cheated places like hotels, banks and casinos out of a lot of money. But one day she messed with the wrong people and took a bullet to the head. Her death hit me harder than anyone else."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

I shrugged, "Don't be. It was a while ago."

"What was her name?"

"Avalon,"

"That's pretty,"

I smiled again. "Yeah, it is. So what about you? What's with the chess piece?"

She shrugged, "My story isn't nearly as interesting as yours. It's my favorite game and I'm good at it. I've only ever met one person who I couldn't beat. Besides that, I've never lost a game. It's something I can rely on."

"Who couldn't you beat?"

She mumbled something under her breath.

"Sorry?"

"Miles," she said grudgingly.

I laughed, "Really? You played chess with Miles?"

She groaned. "Yes. He overheard me boasting my skills one day, back when I hardly knew him. I'm not a cocky person, but the one time I decide to brag, he heard me and challenged me to a game. He crushed me. It was _so_ embarrassing."

I laughed, shaking my head. "That's really funny. But now you two are old friends, huh?"

She nodded, "Yeah, he's definitely my favorite professor. I learned more from him in a week than I did from any of my other teachers in high school."

I pulled up to the curb of her apartment complex and she grabbed the tipped bishop from off of the dashboard, careful not to touch my die.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I said, wishing it could be tomorrow already.

"See you tomorrow," she said and gave me a swift kiss on the cheek and one more breath-taking smile before heading out. I sometimes had a hard time believing that she was finally here to stay.

Often, memories of our visit to Limbo haunted the back of my mind, but I was doing my best to push those away. There wasn't anything in those memories that I could hold onto anyways.

It was more important to focus on the here and now. Focus on how contagious her smile was. The cool, knowing look in Cobb's eye every time he caught us holding hands. The nights we would stay up late, talking until I tucked her into bed because she wouldn't have any energy for school the next day if we were up any longer. And how I knew, without a doubt in my mind, that she was mine.

I threw my die one more time for good measure.

Ariadne

I watched as the headlights of Arthur's car drove down the block and disappeared. But even after they were long gone, I stayed on the porch, starting in his general direction with that goofy grin I had come to love so much on my face.

The essay sitting on the coffee table inside was calling for me to edit it, but I was perfectly content to stand out here in the brisk spring air and savor the moment. Closing my eyes, I relived the evening in my head, taking time to relish all the fleeting details. My hand on his shoulder, the way he laughed in the car, me making sure not to step on his feet as we danced in a slow circle, his subtle, caressing touches that no one could catch but us, and above all, the way he looked at me. It was tender and soft and most of the time, it made me want to melt on the spot.

We had yet to say those three magic words, but I didn't intend on rushing anything anytime soon. The moment would present itself when needed.

Bidding the light, warm air good-bye, I opened my door and flicked on the light. I had just pushed the door shut behind me when I heard a smooth voice from the couch. "Hello Ariadne,"

I gasped and brought my hand to my chest. Sitting on my couch was a man I'd never seen before, wearing something Eames would dress in, and a sly smile.

I open my mouth to scream for help, but quickly snapped it shut as a gun came out from his jacket.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Let's just make this easy, shall we?"

"What do you want?" I demanded, holding my gaze even with his glinting stare.

His eyebrows shot up. "You don't know me?" I couldn't decide if his surprise was feigned. "I would think you would have caught a glimpse of me in some of you boyfriend's research."

I processed two things at the same time. One, he knew about Arthur. Two, Arthur had researched him. Recently? I didn't know.

"Who are you?" I asked, not letting my resolve drop. I covertly looked around the room for potential weapons. My text book sitting on the table was probably heavy enough to knock him out but the chances of getting to it before he shot me were slim. I was too far from the kitchen to use any kind of utensils. I never called being a neat-freak a curse, but this time it was. There was nothing in sight that I could use in defense.

The man stood up and walked towards me as I instinctively took a step back. He held out his hand and said, "I'm Alexander Phillips. Does that ring a bell?"

It rang a really loud one. I didn't take his hand, but instead took another step back in shock. Phillips let out an amused laugh. "I won't have to hurt you if you work with me."

"What do you want?"

"I want you for leverage. I need you and the rest of Mr. Cobb's team to perform inception for me. I tried asking nicely, but that didn't work. Now we have to do this the hard way."

"Why us? There are plenty of other teams who could do this. You don't need _us_ specifically." My keen sense of logic worked me out of a lot of problems in life. I could only hope it was the same in this situation.

"Yes I do. I'm very short on time and I need a guarantee. You have quite the reputation for getting a job done. If I'm not mistaken, your little team single-handedly brought down Fischer Morrow. Quite a scandal, but impressive. But I'm really not asking for anything of that scale. Just a small idea."

I shook my head. This guy obviously didn't know as much as he thought he did. "That doesn't make the risk any lower. Inception is difficult no matter the circumstances. We'd have to go deep enough so that even an untrained subconscious would be on us quickly. And our first inception didn't go smoothly. We screwed up on the third level. We're not perfect." I felt like I was channeling Cobb as I said this.

"But as far as I can tell, your mind is still intact."

I realized that he needed me too much to shoot me. I was too valuable at this point. I slowly inched towards my door.

"What if I don't come with you?" I asked, placing my hand firmly on the door handle. "You can't shoot me. You need me too much."

The sly grin returned to his face and he moved towards me. My heart beat so loudly I dared to hope that the neighbors would call the police to complain about the racket.

"What did a pretty girl like you do to get mixed up in all of this? Oh, I bet I know." His cockiness was really getting on my nerves. "It was your charming point man, wasn't it? The one who drove you home? You make a fine pair, in my opinion. Lots of chemistry, I'm sure. I'd hate for something to happen to him." He fingered the gun in his hand.

This guy knew _way_ too much. He knew about my skills in architecture, but he also knew that Arthur could, hypothetically, be replaced. We technically didn't need him to complete this job. We already had all the information we needed on Mathews. A point man wasn't necessary.

Something hot and sharp shot through my body as my hate for this man burned even stronger. He was threatening to kill Arthur. That was over the line, but I didn't have a choice anymore. I'd just gotten him and I wasn't about to give him up. My hand slowly relaxed off the door handle in defeat and Phillips nodded in approval.

"That's a good girl." He said and his hand came up to play with the scarf around my neck. It made me sick as his fingers made contact with my skin and it took a lot of will power to not knee him where it hurts. The consequences of that weren't unpredictable. "That's a lovely scarf. Did your boyfriend get it for you?" he obviously wasn't expecting an answer, as he slowly reached to tie the chiffon material over my mouth.

Arthur

I made the climb up the two flights of stairs that led to her apartment, like I did every day when three-thirty came around. I knocked on her door with white, peeling paint. I smiled as I remembered what she told me a few days ago about going to get permission to paint it.

'_Maybe a light blue or bright orange. _Anything_ but that awful white,'_ she'd said. She'd have the only door wasn't the same shade of faded white that all the others had. But that was fine with her, Miss Independent. She'd probably enjoy silently standing out. One of the many, many things I loved about her.

She didn't answer the door. I knocked again. "Ariadne?" I called. No response. Maybe she was running late from classes. It wasn't like her, but everyone ran off schedule once in a while.

I knocked one more time, just to be sure and tried the door knob. It was open.

It wasn't like her to be careless. Not like her at all. I couldn't fathom what on earth would lead her to leaving her front door unlocked. "Ariadne?" I called again. No answer. Something that felt like panic started to rise in my throat. _Don't freak out_, I thought, _she's probably just running late._

I shut the door behind me and took out my phone, dialing her number. It took three rings for the other end to pick up. But it wasn't Ariadne.

"Hello, Arthur," came the voice on the other end of the line, "We were wondering when you would call."

"Who is this?" I asked as my heart dropped to my stomach.

"This is Alexander Phillips. You remember me, don't you? Because your adorable little girlfriend here didn't."

"Where's Ariadne?" I demanded.

"She's right here. But you'll have to forgive me for not giving an exact location."

"Prove it. Let me talk to her."

"I'm afraid I need to talk to you first. I need you to notify Mr. Cobb that he'll need to get his team together."

"And why would he need to do that?"

"You people can't connect the dots, can you? I won't take 'no' for an answer. You wouldn't want anything to happen to _dear_ Ariadne, now would you?"

"Don't touch me." I heard Ariadne's voice in the background.

"Let me talk to her, Phillips."

"You can talk to her when you and the rest of your team meet me at your workshop at one tomorrow." The line went dead.

I groaned and sat down on her couch. Phillips had Ariadne and we needed to get through another inception to get her back. He was cocky enough to correctly assume that as long as he had her, the rest of the team wasn't going anywhere. The bastard.

I knew that Cobb and Eames wouldn't back down from this. Yusuf could leave us with a stash of sedatives and run if he wanted to. Although it would be better if he tried to perfect the sedative a bit further so we wouldn't have to worry about Limbo again.

We never should have accepted the Mathews job. That just brought on this whole chain of events that we unknowingly signed up for. I didn't regret the Fischer job; that's what reunited Cobb with his kids. But once this was over we'd need to run and lay low for a while.

I flipped open my phone again to call Cobb and spread the bad news.

_I guess this cancels our plans for the Louvre_, I thought bitterly as the phone rang and a cheery Phillipa picked up.

Ariadne

I was woken out of my light sleep by a sharp kick in the ribs.

"Get up," growled a voice from above me. My throat burned with thirst and my stomach was twisted knots from nerves and hunger. I glanced around and quickly deduced that I was in the back of a moving van. How cliché of them.

The van came to a screeching halt which sent me flying backwards. My back hit the back of the van and my groan was muffled by the scarf in my mouth. My scarf.

Someone – one of Phillips big, buff guys- yanked me to my feet, ripping the gag from my mouth and untying the ropes on my hands.

The doors were thrown open and I squinted against the sudden rush of light. Another pair of hands pushed me roughly out of the van, and though my eyes were squeezed shut, I heard the doors bang shut behind me. Once my eyes had adjusted enough, I found the figure of Phillips standing in front of me, along with yet another one of his body guards.

Phillips looked me up and down before jerking his head toward the building that I recognized as the back of the warehouse. "Come on," he said.

I stretched my arms in front of me, finding the muscles in my upper arms and back sore from having my hands my back all night. It felt good to walk and get blood pumping through my legs. But nothing picked up my heart rate like the thought of seeing Arthur again.

"Stay behind me." ordered Phillips as we neared the door to the large room we usually met and worked in. I obeyed.

We walked in to find Eames, Cobb, Arthur and Yusuf seated in a circle, all wearing similar frustrated expressions.

"You're late," barked Cobb. He was clearly furious.

"Am I? Sorry to keep you. Let's see. We've got our extractor, point man, forger, and chemist. You're missing something." I wanted to strangle him.

"Indeed we are," growled Eames. He had the same livid tone Cobb did.

"And here's your architect." He said simply, taking a step to the side, finally bringing the rest of the team into my view.

I took a tentative step forward and when nothing happened, I wasted no time running straight to Arthur who embraced me fiercely, kissing my hair.

I leaned up to whisper in his ear, "Don't you dare apologize." I pulled back to look him in the eye and for a moment, I saw a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"You've got three days for this, so I'd get busy if I were you. You have an hour with her today." sneered Phillips from the corner. I hated him controlling when I did and didn't see the most important people in my life; making appointments with them like they were therapists or something. Phillips exited the room but left three of his scary-looking men behind to baby sit us.

Arthur released me and pointed me in the direction of Cobb. "He's got your assignment," he said.

"Am _I_ allowed to apologize?" Cobb asked, giving a small smile.

I grinned. "No, you're not. What do you have for me?"

He picked up one of the papers sitting in his lap. "Well, since your kidnappers were so late on getting here, we went ahead and mapped it all out. We won't need you to go under, so I'll spare you the details, but we'll need you to design a library, a high-class restaurant, and an airport."

"Three levels," I mused, willing my eyes to not glance at Yusuf, "An airport?"

He looked sympathetic, "We need it to be large and intricate so we can easily hide from all the projections Mathews will bring in. I know it's a big assignment and I'd say I'm sorry but…."

"But you can't," I finished. "Don't worry about it. I like the challenge."

He nodded, "It's good to see being held hostage hasn't dashed your spirits,"

I laughed, "Never," and made my way over to my desk. Eames followed me there as I set up my blank sheets of paper and blocks of styrofoam.

"Just so you know," he said, sitting on my desk, "Phillips will regret ever laying hands on you when we're through with this."

I smirked. "I've never seen this protective side of you. You should bring it out more often; it's attractive." I teased.

"You and me have very different views of attractive then," he said, getting up. "I'll leave you to work."  
"Since I only have an hour," I muttered to myself as I started laying out the placement of bookshelves in the library.

But as soon as Eames was gone, Arthur took his place on my desk. He idly played with my hair, as if silently apologizing. It was considerably sidetracking.

"You shouldn't distract me," I said, putting down my pencil. "I may not get this done. And then where would we be?"

"Are you okay?" he asked softly.

"I'm fine… now that you're here."

"Now who's the cheesy one?"

"I think I deserve it after sleeping with my hands behind my back all night. It's wasn't the most comfortable position."

I saw his fists clench out of the corner of my eye. "They did that to you?"

"And gagged me with my own scarf. Very offensive." I said, trying to keep the mood light. Against my will, my stomach growled loudly and painfully.

Arthur gave me a pointed look. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Before I went to Cobb's house yesterday."

The corners of his mouth turned down. "I'm going on a coffee run. What do you want?"

"Anything at this point. Whatever you can get your hands on first."

He nodded and squeezed my hand, "I'll be back soon."

"'Kay,"

And with that, he was gone and I was reminded of just how much I was being held captive.

I could almost make myself believe that things were normal. Cobb worked with Yusuf and Eames left to get to know his forgee, just like old times. I could almost believe that I was free to go home to my apartment and maybe take Arthur with me.

But glancing up from my work, the sight of our babysitters hovering over us sent my stomach upside down. They didn't belong here. This was our workshop, my sanctuary, not a place to hold me hostage. They watched us like hawks, so I just kept my eyes on the paper like I was back in high school, taking a physics final. They never left the page until Arthur came back in the door, bringing the smell of coffee with him.

"Here," he said, setting down a coffee cup, muffin and pre-made cesar salad in front of me. "It's the best of what they had at the shop,"

I immediately abandoned my pencil and started to devour the muffin. A low moan escaped my mouth as it slipped down my throat. Food never tasted so good. My stomach gurgled in agreement.

"Thank you," I gasped through bites. He was watching me with an amused expression as I washed down the muffin with a big swig of coffee. "I swear," I said, "I don't normally eat like this."

He chuckled, "I know," He popped open the salad for me and brought out a bottle of water, switching it out with my coffee. "Drink this too," he said.

"No problem."

He leaned in close to me, speaking in a low voice so that the guys by the door couldn't hear him.

"See those guys over there?" he asked, and I nodded. "They're the same guys who brought Mathews to us."

"They're working both sides," I realized, "That's how Phillips knew what we got from Mathews,"

"Right. When this is over we'll need to run and lay low for a while,"

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. "Why can't you just take me and run out of here right now?"

"See those guns they've got?" I grimaced. "There's no guarantee we'll all get out of that alive. The best bet is to get through this and take off as soon as we wake up from incepting Mathews."

"How long will we be gone?"

He shrugged, "I can't tell you for sure. A week, maybe a month or so. As long as it takes for things to cool down around here."

I swallowed, popping in a bite of salad. "Okay," I whispered and picked up my pencil again.

"Hey," he said, turning my face up towards him, "We'll get through this, alright? As long as we play by Phillips' rules, no one gets hurt."

I stifled a laugh. "Since when do any of them," I gestured behind me to Cobb and Yusuf, "play by anyone else's rules?"

"They don't." he said, smirking. But I could sense there was more to all of this. Something he wasn't telling me.

"Arthur, what happens if we fail?"

I saw his gaze flicker over to Cobb for a moment, before coming back to rest on me. "Before the Fischer job, Cobb and I took a job from an engineering company called Cobol. We didn't get the information from the mark that we needed. We had to take off immediately. We left our chemist on a train, and we never saw our architect again. Cobb was tailed while recruiting Eames in Mombasa. It was bad. If it weren't for Saito, we'd probably still be on the run."

"Saito cleared your names?"

He nodded. "We don't have connections to people like that anymore. If we fail, we'll be hiding for a while. You've seen how demanding Phillips is. Imagine what it's like when he doesn't get what he wants."

"So no pressure," said Eames, who had suddenly reappeared behind Arthur.

"Back so soon?"

Eames scowled. "I couldn't focus on his bloody mannerisms while I was being tailed." He gestured behind him to the baby sitters, "I'll try again tomorrow."

"You couldn't lose a tail? You're losing your touch." said Arthur.

"His? Who's he?" I asked.

They exchanged a glance before Eames said, "It's better we don't tell you so Phillips can't pump you for information."

I nodded, and turned back to my work. _No pressure. None at all._

A/N: How was that? I'd love to know. *Points down to review button* Thanks for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: So, I just got back from doing a timed writing for school and guess what the essay prompt was? Waiting for a train and where the train takes you. How cool is that? I had to fight to not make an Inception reference. So anyway, here's the next chapter! Enjoy!

Phillips coughed from the doorway to announce his presence. My scarf dangled loosely from his hand.

"Time's up," he says.

I give the blank sheets of paper and sharpened pencils one last wistful look before standing up from my completed styrofoam model of the library. I'm silently grateful that I work well under pressure and stress; A trait needed to get through college and, in my case, surviving a kidnapping.

Arthur plants a soft kiss on my forehead before I stalk through the backdoor, not bothering to glance at Phillips as I pass him. I want to get tonight over with as soon as possible. The sooner tomorrow comes the better.

"I wouldn't recommend you following us," I hear him say from behind me. I bitterly throw the door open to be greeted with the grim sight on that dreaded van sitting the space behind the building. A sharp begrudging feeling fills me, but I make my way over to it and wait for Phillips to join me.

He finally comes through the door with a curious expression on his face. "You seemed so eager to get out here," he said.

_As long as we play by his rules, no one gets hurt_, Arthur's words float through my mind. I simply shrug, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a full response. The doors are opened I'm unceremoniously jammed inside.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't speak so much while you're supposed to be working," he said. "Wasting time isn't exactly in your favor at the moment."

I stand up taller, and try to will away the sour taste in my mouth. "They're my co-workers. I _have_ to talk to them,"

He strikes so quickly, I don't even see it coming. The back of his hand harshly collides with the side of my face and my head snaps sharply to the right.

It takes me a moment to get over the shock of the slap, but as I bring my head back to look at him, I see exactly who he is for the first time: A coward. A coward hiding behind snide words, power from money and greed. Take away all of that and he's left with nothing.

I meet his gaze unflinchingly, and smiled wryly at my new realization. His grimace at me seems less menacing and I could almost see the person who was shaking with fear behind his mask. It made me want to laugh.

"I'm not sure you understand the delicacy of this situation," he sneered.

The pain pulsating on my cheek involuntarily brought tears to my eyes, but I wouldn't bring my hand up to rub it away until he was gone. "I understand the delicacy more than anyone else does," I said, in a perfectly innocent tone.

He looked pointedly at one the babysitters and soon my hands no longer had access to the front of my body.

"Let's keep in that way," he says as I'm roughly shoved down into a sitting position. My scarf is in my mouth again and he leaves the van, slamming the door as he goes. I'm sure he means to leave me with those words hanging over my head, but in truth, I'm considerably less afraid of this man now.

I hear the bolt slide shut, locking me inside, and I notice that the ropes are tied much tighter than they were last night. The van begins to move and I know that I'm in for a long night. Sleep is less appealing than it was a few minutes ago.

The ropes seem to get tighter and tighter as I grow more and more restless. For the first time, I start to struggle against them and find their texture far from smooth. The roughness of the material itches against my skin, but I realize that if I work hard enough, I might be able to get them off me.

_Screw the rules_, I think as I fight back harder and harder against the restraints. The pain it causes me outweighs the reward, so even when I'm sure they've cut through my skin, I continue to struggle against them.

Long after my arms had grown tired and my wrists had begged me to stop, my body clock tells me I should be asleep; I'm battling both the ropes and my eyelids, to no avail on both counts. My last conscious thought is that the thick, warm liquid I feel on my hands probably isn't sweat.

* * *

The next day, I'm not surprised to find dried blood on my hands and I find the skin around my wrists cut and raw. I'd never managed to escape the ropes, but the pain on my wrists was better than sitting there and doing nothing to fight back. If you could even call my futile attempt at escaping 'fighting'.

I'd already started sketching when Arthur finally arrives at the warehouse. When the lead of my pencil touches my cuts, it stings. But I just kept drawing, determined to finish up the restaurant today. I hadn't even tried to nurse the wounds. Instead, I occasionally blew on the portion of skin that hurt, in attempt to stop the stinging.

Arthur sets a bagel and a steaming cup of what smells less like coffee and more like hot chocolate in front of me. I take my first break in twenty minutes and reach for the bagel. It's heaven.

"Oh my gosh," Arthur breaths next to me.

I swallow my bite before asking, "What?"

He gingerly takes my hand that's not holding the bagel and examines it, turning it over in his hand. I see his expression slowly grow from concerned to angry.

"What happened?" he growled, eyeing the gun lying on Cobb's desk.

I turn his face back to me. "No rash thoughts. These are self-inflicted."

He gives me a startled look and sits down next to me. "Care to explain?"

I fix my eyes on my sketch, unwilling to look at him. "They tied me _really_ tight last night. It made me restless and I _thought_ I could slip out. I didn't know I'd done this much damage."

He shook his head. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Depends on what mood you're in," I say, winking.

Both he and Eames burst into uncontrollable laughter. It's the best sound I've heard in days. Again, I can almost make myself believe that I'm not being held hostage. The feeling is so close, though I can barely feel it.

When he's finally able to stop shaking with laughter, Arthur brings out a water bottle. "You've been hanging around Eames too much,"

"I beg to differ!" calls Eames.

Arthur simply smirks and opens the bottle. "Let me see your hands. Can I borrow your scarf?"

I untie my scarf from around my neck and give it to him. He pours water on it and slowly begins to clean my cuts. "Can't have you getting any infections," he mutters.

I'm held to the spot and almost shocked by his slow and deliberate strokes across my skin. It's different from our day-to-day reassuring brushes. It's more careful and caring. Never would I ever have imagined him doing something like this. It wasn't completely un-Arthur, just unexpected. It took me by surprise and I didn't dare move as each cleansing stroke sent electricity through my body. _What did I do to deserve this?_, I thought.

He smiles softly as he switches to my other hand. "What are you thinking?"

It takes me a moment to bring my thoughts together. "Why do you ask?"

"I can't read the expression on your face."

"Can you usually?"

"No, but this one is especially interesting. What are you thinking?"

"How incredibly lucky I am."

"Any why are you lucky?"

I pause to watch his hands continue to attend my wounds. The sight of it sends a jarring sensation through my heart and down to my toes. Finally, I hold up my hand. "Because I know I have someone to heal me when I'm broken."

I thought he would chuckle and make some comment about being cheesy, but instead his expression softens. As he finishes his last mesmerizing stroke across my skin, he brings the inside of my wrist to his lips and kisses it just as gently as he cleaned it.

"Thank you," I whisper, careful not to break the moment. His lips depart from my skin and his deep brown, beautiful eyes look up at me. My breath catches in my throat and I don't breath, afraid that any sudden movement will shatter the moment of bliss.

The words are caught in my throat, but the thought of keeping them inside seems unjust. I'm frozen by fear, but I know that he needs to hear it. We both do. "I love you," I breath.

He closes his eyes again and seems to slowly exhale in relief. Opening them again, he examines my face and carefully tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, smiling.

"And I love you," he says, leaving his hand to caress my cheek. The cheek that Phillips slapped. His touch seems to quiet it of the lingering throbbing from last night.

He stands up and keeps his eyes on me for as long as possible, before calling to Yusuf. "Yusuf, you wouldn't happen to have any gauze bandages on you, would you?"

Yusuf looks up from Cobb's sleeping figure and takes off his glasses. "I do, actually. They've been in my bag for a while, though." He says, getting up to sift through a bag sitting on a table behind them.

Arthur walks over to him. "They'll do for now."

He returns with the bandages and finishes dressing my wounds by wrapping a fair amount of gauze around both my wrists. "These should last you a while," he says.

"Hopefully they won't have to last me longer than that," I mutter.

"Agreed," he says, "Maybe-"

"Arthur! Where's that address you were getting me?" asks Eames.

Arthur grimaces and I gesture for him to get back to work. "It's coming," he mumbles, opening his laptop.

I work considerably faster, now that I don't have the distraction of my cuts. I finally finished sketching the layout of the restaurant and move on to sculpting it with my styrofoam. The work settled a peaceful feeling over me and I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

I finally told him I loved him. I wouldn't have to worry about not saying soon enough or in the right way anymore. It made me want to say it again.

I was able to sleep that night, replaying his firmly spoken words in my head until they formed their own rhythm. "And I love you…and I love you…" The words worked themselves into a soothing lullaby. The dark, lonely, silent, forbearing van didn't seem so empty and prison-like when I had his voice locked in my head. I dreamed of repeating the words back to him again and again.

I had my work cut out for me the next day. I had to completely design the airport from scratch and then teach them all their levels. Just another day of doing my job as architect.

"Cobb!" I called, grimacing down at my work.

"Yeah?" he stands behind me, looking over my shoulder at the sketch littered with pencil shavings. I must've redone the layout four times before settling on this one.

"What do you think? Good enough?"

He examined my drawing closely, tracing the different hallways and room with his finger. I see his brow furrow in concentration. One of these days, I'm going to get him to design again. I want to see what he can do.

"I like it. But take down this wall here and combine those two rooms."

"Alright," I say, erasing the line. "Do you want a pathway that cuts through?"

"No," he says, "This is good enough. There's enough hiding spots. Ready to test it?"

"Yes!" I say and get up to grab the PASIV off of his desk. Before anyone can stop me, I slide the needle under my skin. I check to make sure that Cobb's hooked up as well before punching in the beloved yellow button.

* * *

When I open my eyes from teaching Yusuf his level, there's only four of us in the room. I look around to find Eames and Cobb have gone home already. Arthur stands watch over Yusuf and me, shutting down the silver brief case. Phillips leans casually again one of the many tables in the room.

"Come on." He said, hauling me to my feet. "Hour's up."

I gave him an 'if looks could kill,' look and glared at the scarf in his hand as I took the needle out of my skin.

"Oh, don't look so put out. If you've done your job night, tonight's your last night in the van,"

"And if I haven't?" I ask, daring to snatch the scarf from his grasp, because I'm not as scared of him anymore.

He smiles wickedly. "Let's just say that you and I will be spending a lot more time together."

I curl my hands into fists and Arthur looks like he would like to do a couple things with the needle I just handed him. The last thing I need is more quality time with this man.

"Come along," says Phillips, walking away. "You'll be back in here soon enough,"

Arthur sadly nods. "Get some sleep." He says, as I softly place a kiss on his cheek. "We've got a big day tomorrow."

"Our second inception. Look at us. We must be extraction legends."

He chuckles. "Careful what you wish for."

"I'll keep that in mind." I say as I turn to follow Phillips to the door. But I stop and turn slowly back around.

"I love you," I say.

He clicks shut the PASIV and looks at me warmly. "And I love you."

_One more night_, I think. One more before I don't have to worry about him getting shot.

A/N: If that's not a filler, I don't know what is. A lot of you have been waiting for them to say those three special words. Did I do it right? Too fluffy? (If there is such a thing) Either way, the review button is _right there_. *hinthint* Thanks for reading!


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: 100 reviews? I don't even know what to say to that. I had to check my totem on that one…Just kidding, I don't have a totem. But I should probably get one, huh? Enough about me, more about our favorite couple! Here's another one! Enjoy!

Arthur

It killed me to see her begin taken away from me so easily. Each day, she unwillingly but obediently followed him out the door. It was all I could do to not grab that gun that had been sitting on Cobb's desk for the past few days, taunting me, and shoot him right then and there. But then, who knows what kind of hell that would rain down on us?

My anger burned inside me constantly. Or at least until I was in her presence. When I was with her, my aching and anxiety was soothed away. But as soon as her angelic face faded from my view, the passionate fire returned.

I returned to my hotel room that night, throwing my die countless times on the wooden desk. Every time, it gave me the same number. No matter how hard I wished it, I couldn't will away this nightmare. I couldn't break her free of her bounds and safely return her back to me.

Part of me wanted to quit as soon as this job was over. I wanted to pack up and get out of the business as soon as possible. Look at what it had done to Cobb and his loved ones. The image of Ariadne's injured wrists, raw, cut, and bleeding, filled my view.

But the other half knew how much it would hurt her to leave the dream world just after discovering it. I couldn't take that away from her. The guilt and selfishness would eat me alive. I also knew that leaving behind extraction wouldn't be too easy for me either. I'd built up a small emotional attachment to it over the years, and it was what I did best. I'd built my entire life around it for the past six years. It wasn't possible to quit with a clean break.

She'd finally told me she loved me. No words could describe how relieved I was when the words fell from her lips. Now that we both knew it, there was no doubt in my mind that I would never let her go. I wouldn't let her leave me either. The thought of that was almost more than I could bear.

I leaned my head against the window of the room, looking out to the city lights of Paris. _Where are you?_, I thought. A million ideas swirled around my mind. What if I could find her and run away right now, without looking back, taking back what was rightfully mine? Images formed in my head of me rescuing her from that van and taking her away.

The ideas all ran together and created an unmistakable buzz in my mind. I clenched my fists in frustration.

Cobb's words from yesterday were what kept me grounded. "We'll get her back," he'd said. He wasn't trying to comfort or calm me down. He was stating it as a simple fact. I trusted Cobb, probably more than anyone else, and I believed him.

But he'd never said anything about getting it right tomorrow. I could only hope that we'd be successful on the inception.

Deciding that I shouldn't dwell on thoughts that will only cause me stress, I settled into bed and play a game of hide and seek with sleep. After finding it, the only dreams I got were those of cut wrists, unsolvable mazes and rolling dice.

* * *

They brought her in the next morning as I was setting up the PASIV for everyone. She looked more tired than usual. I guessed that she hadn't taken my advice on getting a good night's sleep. But I couldn't blame her. I was sure that none of us had slept for more than a few hours last night.

But she wasn't the only one that Phillips brought with him today. Behind them were two of his men dragging in the body of Mathews. I felt a wave of déjà vu wash over me.

"Hey," she said as she walked up to me. Her voice was timid and hoarse. The bandages on her wrists were still perfectly intact. But I also noticed that there was a splotch of bright pink on one of her cheeks. I brushed my hand across it.

"Do I want to know?" I whispered under my breath.

She pursed her lips and glanced over her shoulder at Phillips who was preoccupied with conversing with a very tense and angry Cobb. "No, not now. When we're done."

I nodded, understanding. "I brought you something," I say, bringing out the paper bag from the pastry shop I'd been to this morning. I'd picked something out of the usual, as a celebration.

She took it. "Smells delicious. Something to keep my company for ten hours."

I grimaced. "Sorry about that."

"Don't be. Someone's got to be awake to watch him." She tilted her head toward Phillips.

Eames walked in, not bothering to greet anyone, and plopped down in one of the squeaky lawn chairs. He avoided my eyes, but instead glared pointedly at the back of our client. I wasn't the only one who wanted a swing or two at that man. He had a funny way of showing it, but Eames cared about Ariadne too, there was no doubting it. In all the time I'd known him, I'd never seen him in a stormier mood than when she was kidnapped. It was the same way with Yusuf. Under normal circumstances, he would be grumbling about having to go under, a feat he dreaded. But I had yet to hear one word of complaint out of him.

I hand Yusuf, who was already seated, and him a needle. He took it grudgingly and I watched to make sure he didn't prick himself too hard.

"Let's get this show on the road," he mumbled. I was a bit surprised. I would've guessed that he would've loved the thrill and challenge of a new inception job. I'd expected the more cocky part of his personality to come out. Although the circumstances hadn't changed that much from the last inception, loved ones on the line and stuff, Saito was a much more likeable client than Phillips was.

"Will you be okay?" I asked, turning back to Ariadne.

She smiled a bit and squeezed my hand. "You just get your job done. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I'll be right here when you wake up."

I crack a smile myself and run a hand through her hair. "That's my girl."

It's the last thing any of us say; the room goes eerily silent as I grab another needle and hook up Mathews. Then Cobb, then myself.

Before I know it, we're all set to go. Phillips had taken a casual position leaning against the wall and Ariadne waits patiently by the machine for our 'okay', her hand tracing the circumference of the yellow button. She hides it well, but I can tell she's nervous. One hand is in her pocket and I know she's playing with her totem for reassurance. She's managed to hold onto it thorough all of this.

She looks over to Cobb who nods to her and the last thing I hear before I'm under is the all too familiar whirring of the machine.

Ariadne

I watch as all their eyes slide close and I finally let out the breath I'd been holding. All that's left to do is wait.

I noisily open Arthur's paper bag, letting out an aroma of chocolate and French cooking. Inside was a fluffy-looking croissant and a doughnut with chocolate frosting. I suppressed my sigh of content as I bit into some of the best French pastries I'd ever tasted. I couldn't wait until my meals didn't have to be delivered to me.

I'd received another slap on the face for talking back last night. I'd craved Arthur gentle touch all night. The throbbing was part of what kept me up all night. The other part was worrying about whether or not we could be successful two times in a row. As much as I hated, the odds weren't really in our favor. I'd put everything I had into the layouts in mazes. If we failed, I couldn't blame myself. I'd made sure of that.

I started to feel my drowsiness come over me, but I didn't dare let my eyes close while Phillips was in the room. Like I'd told Arthur, someone had to keep an eye on him.

"Do you think they'll do it?" asked Phillips. I looked up to find a thoughtful expression on his face. He was watching Mathews like a cat watches a mouse before pouncing, but there was something more intelligent in his face than I was used to seeing.

"Yes," I said, after swallowing a bite of doughnut, simply because there wasn't any other answer when I was talking to him.

"How long will it take?"

"A little under ten hours," I said.

He nodded stoically and looked meaningfully at two of the babysitters. "I'll be back in eight." He said and left without so much as a glance over his shoulder.

I finished off the rest of my croissant and settled deeper into my seat, preparing for the longest ten hours of my life. With Phillips gone, I finally let my eyes slip closed.

Arthur

"How did it go?" I asked as Eames exited the restaurant.

He shook his head. "He's suspicious. It's not running smoothly in there."

I cursed under my breath. I should've seen this coming. "Where's Cobb?"

"He's coming, but he'll be delayed. There were some, shall we say, complications."

I shook my head in frustration. "This isn't good. We'll miss the kick at this rate."

"So what do you propose?"

I ran a hand through my hair. We couldn't miss the kick, but we also couldn't cut corners on this job either. Eames looked at me expectantly. I was the Point Man. I was supposed to have answers to these kinds of questions in a moment notice. But I couldn't stop thinking about Ariadne waiting for us above. Running wouldn't be easy, but sometimes it was necessary, and I was sick of seeing her beat up. It killed me inside every time it happened.

"We'll go down one more level. If he's still suspicious, we'll cut it off. No point in going further if it's not going to work."

Eames nodded, but his expression was annoyed. "I should've known." He muttered.

I didn't bother to ask him what he meant, because Cobb came sauntering out of the restaurant at that moment.

"Is it any better?" asked Eames.

He shook his head. "Dishes were rattling in there. Let's get out of here before it collapses. One more level?" he asks, with a solemn expression.

I nod my head. "One more level." If the situation didn't get any better, it was back to running and hiding; Something I was good at, but not something I enjoyed.

Ariadne

I had a coma-like sleep. I didn't even remember falling asleep, let alone what I dreamt about. I took a reluctant breath as I felt the warm comforts of unconsciousness slip away from me. The taste of chocolate still lingered in my mouth.

I looked around to see that the noise that had woken me up was Phillips. I immediately shut my eyes, pretending to me asleep again.

"You don't have to fake-sleep," he said casually.

_Dang it_, I thought and let my eyes open to find him leaning against the wall again, as if he had never left. He continued to watch Mathews with a glinting look in his eyes. It was a bit cryptic, not that I expected anything else from this man.

"How important it is," I asked, "that Mathews merge with you?"

He gave me an incredulous look and I held up my hands in mock-innocence. "Just curious," I said.

He gave me an annoyed expression and came to stand closer to me. "Why would I tell _you_?"

"Well, I am the one doing the job for you. But if you'd rather sit in silence for the next two hours, be my guest." I fired back.

His gaze narrowed and I wondered why I haven't learned my lesson yet about talking back to him. I should be able to, I'm not a child. But he can't do anything to Arthur now. Not while he's doing the job he wants done.

He leans against the table next to me and lets out a sigh of disgust. "If you must know, if I don't get him to agree with me, the company I've been building for twenty years will collapse under my feet. This was my last resort."

I nodded, and understood a little more why he was such a coward. "I didn't want to have to do it," he continued, "I wanted it to be genuine. I wanted him to _actually_ choose me, to prove that what I stood for had some meaning to other people. This way, it's fake. He won't actually be agreeing with me. In the end, I still won't be as good as Jones is."

I guess stressful times like these really opened him up. I wasn't actually expecting an answer to my question. It was strange to see this new side of my captor. I wouldn't have thought that he had such morals.

"If it's going to tear you up, why do it?"

"It won't tear me up. Sometimes we have to make choices that aren't morally correct, but they help keep us afloat. You of all people should understand that, thought stealer. I don't regret this, I just wish it could be done differently."

I bit back a laugh. "Isn't that a bit backwards?" I asked.

"Is what backwards?"

This conversation was going from strange to unnatural. I didn't like the feel of it. "Well, if you want the deal to be real, not fake, why don't _you_ trying being real for a change? Don't hide behind money and power. People see right through that, you know. It might be part of the reason Mathews denied you in the first place. He saw you for what you really were: scared, but hiding behind a mask."

He slowly brought his hands to rest on either of the arms of my chair. From the look on his face, I could tell this was the calm before the storm. I'd over stepped the line. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_, I chanted in my head.

"I'm going to give you a word of advice and I suggest you follow it. Be quiet until I tell you otherwise. Understand?"

I stared at him defiantly and said nothing. I wouldn't let him control me. That earned me another smack on the side of my face. The sting from earlier that had started to go away returned full force. He didn't even bother alternating cheeks; it was always the same one. I could feel my skin turning red and the desire for Arthur's alleviating touch reappeared.

"Understand?" he asked again.

"Crystal," I sneer.

He jerked away, obviously agitated. Good. Maybe I'd done a little inception of my own. I know I'd gotten to him. The idea was in his head and his reaction made it clear that it made an impact in his mind. I felt very smug.

I was about to pull out my totem again when I saw it. Cobb's eyes slowly opened. I glanced in alarm at the timer on the PASIV. They still had another hour and a half. He wasn't supposed to be awake. Seeing my panic, he silently made a 'sush' shape with his lips. Whatever he was doing, Phillips wasn't supposed to know that he was doing it.

I stayed quiet as the other three opened their eyes, not counting Mathews. They all still lay perfectly still, as if trying to convince everyone in the room that they were still asleep.

What came next happened so fast that if I had blinked, I would have missed it. Cobb sprang up from his seat, snatching the gun off of his desk and pointed it at our client. Yusuf took off like a bat out of hell from the room while Arthur and Eames jumped up to stand next to me, helping me to my feet.

"What's this?" exclaimed Phillips. The babysitters had raised their scary looking guns at Cobb.

"Shoot me, and I shoot him. That means you don't get a pay check." he said to them.

They exchanged a glance, but held their position. "Come on," said Arthur pulling me out of the room. "Time to go." he said. I could see that he was snapped into business mode.

"I don't understand," I said as Cobb slowly backed away from Phillips, toward us.

"You can't run," sneered Phillips, "I'll find you wherever you go."

"We'll take you up on that challenge," said Eames, and like that we all took off in the direction that Yusuf had run. I was so confused, but I didn't ask any question. I just kept running for the door because that's where everyone I trusted was headed.

We burst out the back door to find that Yusuf was in Eames' car, with the engine running. No sooner had I thrown myself inside than the car gave an awful lurch forward.

"What was that?" I demanded.

"We didn't make it," said Arthur, who was sitting in the passenger seat.

"What?"

"The idea never would've taken. He wasn't reacting to his projections the way we wanted him to. Our plan was based off the assumption that he had certain opinions. We assumed wrong."

"Did you even make it to the third level?"

"No, we cut it off after the second."

"You didn't even try?" I demanded, my voice rising.

"It wouldn't have been worth it. On the third level, we have the risk of Limbo and the sooner we got out of there the better."

"I think you could've tried. We went to Limbo after Fischer was killed and that worked out fine."

"We would've been enforcing the wrong idea; we were off target. You know how to get to the airport, right?" he asked Yusuf.

"Of course," he scoffed.

"Make it fast. We don't have much of a head start."

"Ariadne," Cobb said softly. "I know you're upset, but trust me when I say that it was the best decision at the time."

I nodded. "Okay," I said. The car lapsed into silence as I continued to stare out the window.

Beneath my annoyance that they hadn't even tried, I felt liberated from the bonds that had held me bound for the past week. I realized that I loved the exhilaration of running away.

In another half hour, Yusuf pulled up the airport, packed with people, business men and tourists alike.

"We split up and meet again on the plane. Eames, you take Ariadne." said Cobb.

Arthur, who was immersed in professionalism at the moment, made no retort. I understood that. Cobb was the leader and his wishes were respected. Besides, we'd have time to be together later, when the work switch wasn't on.

Eames towed me away from the car and we started weaving through the crowds, easily disappearing. It was interesting to see his skills put into motion. Maybe someday, I could learn to follow and loose a tail. I stuck by his side and tried not to pay attention to much else besides the task at hand. Thoughts of my classes, apartment and Miles tried to push their way to the front of my mind, but I wouldn't let them. I just held onto the thought that I would be back to Paris before the beloved city knew I was gone.

We made it through security quickly since we didn't have anything but ourselves. After passing the metal detectors, Eames handed me a ticket. "Where are we going?" I asked, turning it over in my hands.

"Good ol' London. Phillips doesn't have as many connections there."

I nodded and started following him again to the boarding area. I noticed that he still had his gun tucked in his waistband. _How did he _do_ that?,_ I wondered. The team definitely still had a lot to teach me.

On the plane, I had a seat near Yusuf, but after Eames made sure that I was secure, I didn't see anyone else for the rest of the hour-long flight. I couldn't help but think of the last time I had been on an airplane with these people.

There was a high concentration of adrenaline flowing through my veins, so sleep wasn't an option right now. Instead, I found a pen in the pouch in the seat front of me and sketched various mazes on my drink napkin and on my palm. Soon, both my palms were covered in intricate lines and complex pathways. It was calming and helped settle my unnecessary nerves.

The moment the wheels hit the runway, another shot of adrenaline surged through me. I felt a tinge of what must've been paranoia as I stepped off. I had the strangest urge to keep glancing behind me.

I felt an arm snake around my waist and looked up to find Arthur, whose work switch was still on. All his energy was being directed at being the Point Man and making sure we all got somewhere safe.

"Have a good flight?" I asked.

"Something like that," he said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shook his head. "It was taken up by strategizing with Cobb about what our next move is."

"Which is what?"

"Stay here for a few days, see if Phillips can find us. If things start looking suspicious, we head back to Paris."

"Back to Paris?"

"He wouldn't expect us to go back there."

I nodded, glad that I would be back to France soon enough. Five minutes later, I was in a taxi, smashed between Yusuf and Cobb, who told the driver to get us to the nearest hotel. He then pulled out his phone, and quickly called a number he obviously had on speed dial.

"I need you to take the kids," he said.

I turned to see the troubled, tormented, lost Cobb I had first met had returned. His eyes were vacant again and I could practically see the energy drain out of him as he listened to Miles, no doubt, on the other side.

"No, it's just for a while. Tell them I'll be home soon." There was a pause. "Yes, I know." Pause. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you." he said and hung up.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"For what?"

"You just got your kids back, and now you're gone again."

He had a sober expression. "It's only for a while. I'll see them again, we're just on the run for now."

"I'm sorry,"

He smiled sadly. "Now you're the one not allowed to apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for."

I pressed my lips together, complying, but wondering if that was actually true.

It was dark outside when we arrived at the hotel, which must have been at least four stars. The lobby was an artist's dream. The ceiling was painted with countless breathtaking scenes and the walls were covered with life-like murals. The floors were marble, accented with dark wood furniture. It seemed like the kind of place celebrities, politicians, and other important people stayed at. We found Arthur and Eames sitting in the chairs not far from the front desk, both wearing a jet-lagged expression.

"We're you followed?" asked Eames, as soon as we were close enough. He sounded drowsy.

"No," said Cobb. "We'll be safe here."

I stood next to Arthur (I could slowly see the work switch being turned off), as Eames said, "Come on. We're all on the sixth floor."

As we boarded the lavishly decorated elevator, Eames started passing out card keys. "You're lucky I got us rooms close together. The receptionist was not the easiest woman to work with."

"But you seem to have managed that alright." said Yusuf.

Eames smirked. "Yes I did. And this is for you Ariadne." He said, and pressed two hundred dollar bills into my hand. "You can go shopping tomorrow."

I remembered that I didn't even have a change of clothes, let alone a toothbrush. "Thanks," I smiled. "But no key?"

Eames had a smug expression, as if he was proud of himself. "With him." he said, jerking his head towards Arthur.

"Oh," I said, careful to sound surprised. I felt Arthur squeeze my hand reassuringly and tow me towards the door marked 614 in swirly font. Opening the thick, heavy door the smell of fresh sheets and scented air filled my head. The room had a rich décor, and everything was precise and perfect. Except one thing: there was only one, lonesome bed in the room.

I felt my cheeks heat up, and glancing up at Arthur, I saw his ears had turned a light tint of pink.

"I call the floor," I blurted out.

His eyebrows furrowed, probably in attempt to cover his uneasiness. "What? No, there is _no way_ I'm letting you sleep on the floor."

"Yes, there is. I've been sleeping in uncomfortable places for days now. I'll be fine."

"Which is exactly why, among many reasons, I am not letting you sleep on the floor."  
"Sure you are." I said and walked over to the bed. "I'll just take this," I grabbed one of the pillows off the bed, "And this," I grabbed the extra blanket in the closet and threw the two on the ground together. "There. That's better than I've had for the past four days."

He shook his head. "No, that is not happening. I'm going down to get us a room with two beds. And on my way, I'm going to stop by Eames' room."

I looked at him for a moment, deciding whether or not I could win this. Declaring it a loosing battle I said, "Fine. But you go straight to the front desk. I'll talk to Eames."

He considered this for a moment before agreeing. We left the one-bedded room behind and I headed two doors down to the room I'd seen Eames slip into. I knocked loudly.

"Some people around here are trying to sleep, love," he said as he opened the door groggily. "It would be a shame to wake them."

"You did that on purpose," I said, gesturing down the hall.

The Cheshire cat smile appeared. "So I did. But you have to admit it was fun to see Arthur's reaction, wasn't it?"

"What? No. Only you find joy in stuff like that."

"Oh, come on. Didn't you just fancy the color in his cheeks for once?"

I'd never tell, but truth be told, I kind of did. And honestly, it had lightened the mood considerably. "No, I did not. Now don't pull anything like that again." I scolded.

"No promises."

I shook my head. "You may just be the death of me."

"But you stick around anyways," he said and winked.

I rolled my eyes. "I have my reasons. Eames?"

"Yes, darling?"

"Are we really safe here?"

"You didn't believe Cobb when he said it?"

"It doesn't hurt to get a second opinion."

He nodded. "Well, I may not be the best person to ask, since I _am_ biased, having lived the first half of my life here. I feel safe as kittens here."

I pursed my lips. "I had a feeling you would say that. And I saw what you pulled at the airport."

He laughed. "I pulled many things at the airport, sweetheart, but which did you see?"

"How'd you get the gun past security?"

He chuckled again. "Oh, that's an easy one. The trick is not sending it through the metal detectors."

"I'm glad you're on our side," I mumbled.

He had an amused expression. "Never fear, my dear," he said, patting my head as if I were a child. "You're safe and sound."

The ding of the elevator announced Arthur's return and Eames drew his hand back mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like '…hands off the girlfriend.'

"That was not funny."

"Sure it was! Your face is priceless."

Arthur looked upwards with a '_why me?'_ expression on his face. "Come on, our new room is this way." he said, taking my hand.

"See you two love birds tomorrow." yawned Eames.

"Go to sleep, Mr. Eames," Arthur said as he led me away. The last we heard from him was a ghostly chuckle.

The new room was exactly the same as the last, with the exception of an extra bed. On the inside, I was really relieved that I wouldn't have to sleep on the floor, but I'd never tell him that.

I washed up in the bathroom as best I could, taking a shower and letting the warm water wash over me, further cleaning my cuts, which were almost healed. I popped in a complimentary breath mint, and cleaned out whatever dirt had found its way under my nails. Freshening up never felt so good.

I walked out with my hair wrapped in a towel, dressed in my jeans and T-shirt, to find Arthur lounging on one of the beds with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and tie loosened. His vest lay neatly folded at the foot of the bed. The switch was finally off.

"What are those?" he asked and gestured to my hands.

I looked to find that the mazes I had doodled on my hands had, for the most part, survived the shower. "Oh, I got bored on the plane and couldn't sleep." I said, and went to sit next to him.

He took one of my hands and started tracing the pathways of the mazes with the tip of his finger. It was mesmerizing.

"Did it help?" he asked, not looking up from my palm.

I nodded. "Very much."

He shook his head. "I couldn't do anything like this if I tried for a million years."

I tilted my head. "I think you could. You seem to be very good at figuring stuff out."

"Not stuff like this. It takes creativity to do this."

I kissed his cheek. "Well then, it's a good thing I'm the Architect and you're the Point Man."

He smiled and I faintly felt the air leave my lungs. "Yes, a very good thing. Are these feeling any better?" he gestured to my wrists.

"Yeah, they're healing. I'll have to get new bandages tomorrow thought."

He cupped my cheek with his hand. "And this?"

I pressed his hand closer to my cheek. "All healed."

He smiled and kissed me softly. I understood that a lot of the time, the switch would have to be on. But that kept me from taking moments like these for granted. Where it was just me and him. And no switch.

"Are you hungry? The croissant and doughnut couldn't have sufficed."

"No. I'm more tired than I am hungry. The croissant and doughnut were delicious though. Best food I've had in days. But I'm glad I'll be able to pick out my own meals now."

"Glad you liked them. I think I'll take my turn in the bathroom, now."

"Okay," I said and took the towel off my head, running my fingers through my wet hair. After it was detangled to my satisfaction, I laid my head against the pillow and before I knew what was happening, with the adrenaline gone from my system, I fell asleep instantly.

Arthur

I exited the bathroom to find her fast asleep on my bed, with her beautiful, brown, wet hair splayed across the pillow. She really was gorgeous, with her slightly pink cheeks and maze-adorned hands.

I smiled to myself and took the other bed, turning the lamp off as I went. We all deserved a good night of rest. The day's events had been truly exhausting and it was a bit of a wonder that we had all gotten out of the warehouse unharmed. I had finally fulfilled my aspiration to break her free and take her away. It felt so good to know that she was perfectly secure with me watching over her.

We'd worked well today. We'd proved that we could work well together without getting attached to each other in the face of danger. It was good to know that we could put those feelings on hold while the rest of the team was involved. I was proud of us.

No sooner had I contently shut my eyes than I heard the sound of a strangled cry in the back of her throat. She winced as if in pain and rolled over onto her side, gasping for breath.

So she could still dreamed organically, including nightmares. Those would disappear soon enough, but she was still new enough to have dreams of her own at night still.

No longer able to stand the sound of her being tormented in her sleep, I slipped out of the bed and went to hold her, smoothing her hair away from her face as I shook her gently.

"Ariadne," I said, shaking her shoulders. "Ariadne, it's just a dream. Wake up, love."

She moaned and I thought I heard the word 'no' slip out between the unsteady breathing. Finally, she woke with a violent shudder. She looked around frantically and started to scramble away, but I held her to me and took her face in my hands.

"Hey, hey. Look at me. You're alright, you're alright. It's just a dream."

She took three more choppy breaths before relaxing into my arms. A sigh of relief went through her and I pressed my cheek to the top on her head. I could practically hear her heart pounding away.

"Shh," I soothed, "It's okay."

She swallowed and took a deep, steady breath. "I dreamed…I dreamed he found us and… he wouldn't stop. I tried to make him stop, but he wouldn't."

I turned her pretty face up to me. "What wouldn't stop?"

"He wouldn't stop hurting you. That's what he threatened when he kidnapped me. He threatened to hurt you, and if he did, it would be all my fault."

I ran my hand through her hair again and looked her in the eye. "But it's okay now. It was just a dream. I'm not hurt, see? Everything's alright and you're safe." _Here in my arms_, I added in my head.

She nodded and leaned her head against my chest, taking another deep breath.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Please stay," was all she said. "Please."

I nodded and laid all the way down on the bed, never loosing contact with her body. I wrapped my arm around her slender waist as I pulled the blanket over us. I could feel her breath on the crook of my neck and I had a strong urge to cast my die, but resisted it. I told her I'd stay.

"I guess we didn't need that extra bed after all." she said.

I kissed the top of her head, and closed my eyes, content to stay here for a very long time.

"I guess not."

A/N: Oof, that was a long one. Love it? Hate it? Either way, I _really_ want to know! Thanks for reading!


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: So sorry for the late update! I'll spare you the details of why it was late, and just tell you that life went crazy for a while. But that doesn't matter now…Enjoy!

I made myself comfortable, snuggling closer and tucking my head under his chin. Our bodies intertwined tightly so that if he left in the middle of the night, I'd know. But he stayed true to his word and held me all night long, keeping away the rouge dreams.

I felt selfish waking him up and keeping him here, but I didn't let the feeling consume me. I focused more on the closeness of his body and warm breath on my skin.

It was mainly for my benefit that I did it. If I could feel him in my sleep, I knew that the nightmares of him being shot weren't real. He was a totem of sorts that night.

For the first time all day, I finally felt safe and secure. His thudding, and occasionally stuttering, heartbeat in my ears is what eventually lulled me into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

I woke up the next morning to harsh sunlight trying to break through the barrier of the heavy curtains that had been drawn sometimes during last night. The clock on the night stand read 10:42. Arthur, who was already awake, had propped up pillows behind himself had was reading some paperback book that looked rather thick. I had no idea where he'd gotten it from.

"Good morning," he said, without taking his eyes off the page, but reaching over to caress my hair.

"Morning," I smiled, burrowing into his side. "Sleep well?"

He smiled that breath-taking smile that I loved. "Very well. You?"

"Same." I yawned. "Why'd you let me sleep so late?"

"You needed it. And I couldn't bring myself to wake you since you looked like you were dreaming."

"Funny, I don't remember any dreams."

"No? You should still be able to." he mused.

I frowned. "How long until they go away?"

He pursed his lips and set his book on the night stand. "Mine started becoming infrequent after my third or fourth job."

"That soon?"

"Yeah."

"Do you dream at all anymore?"

"Occasionally. But I learned not to expect them a while ago."

"Do you wish you still did?"

He shook his head. "No. All the dreams I don't get during the night are made up for during jobs. It doesn't bother me as much as it does other people."

"So, it's not bad that I wish they would go away sooner?"

"Um, no, but why would you?"

"Because I hate the nightmares."

He smiled. "I said the exact same thing once."

"When?"

"After one of my first jobs. The extractor got stuck in Limbo. He haunted my natural dreams for a while. Our chemist made me a compound that stopped the dreams at night. He wasn't too happy about it though."

"Why?"

"He thought I should've waited out the nightmares and the dreams would disappear on their own eventually. He said that reality is a nightmare that tries to run us down, but our dreams at night are what keep us up and going; or something along those lines."

"Lucky for me," I said, propping my pillow up behind me so I could sit up like him, "I dream for a living."

He chuckled and kissed the top of my head.

"I'm sorry if I woke you up last night. I didn't mean to."

"You didn't. I wasn't even half asleep when you started tossing and turning."

"Was it bad?" I asked, scared of the answer.

"It _sounded_ bad, if that's what you mean."

"Dang it, I hoped that wouldn't happen."

He put his arm around my shoulders. "Don't worry about it. Besides, it was barely a hardship to cuddle with you all night." he said, creating a funny feeling in my stomach. "Hungry?"

I hadn't noticed how painfully empty my stomach felt. "Yes." I said, grimacing.

"Why the frown?"

"Getting food involves getting out of this bed. Not sure I can do that."

He laughed. "Too comfortable?"

I rested my head on his shoulder. "_Way_ too comfortable."

"Would it help if I got up first?" He said, shifting away from me with a smile, teasing me.

"Oh, no you don't," I said, and dragged him back down.

He laughed again as he slowly and softly pressed his lips to mine, making me melt back into the pillows. I ran my hands through his not-yet-gelled hair as his found my waist, holding me to the bed. Nothing like kissing Arthur to wake you up in the morning.

_Knock, knock._

"Not now," muttered Arthur and I felt my mouth curve up in a smile.

_Knock, knock, knock._ The insistent pounding on the door continued.

"You might…want to…get…that," I said around kisses.

"They'll have to come back when we're available." he said as his lips graced around my mouth. My fingertips brushed down the length of his arm, finally intertwining his fingers with mine.

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

"Fine," he groaned in defeat, getting up as I pouted. Whatever was on the other side of that door better be _really_ important.

I heard him groan as the door opened. "What?" I heard him demand.

"Wake up on the wrong side of the bed did we? Or did I interrupt something?" said Eames. Leave it to him.

"What is it Eames?"

"I'll take the latter. We have a flight out of here at five o'clock. Be at the airport at four."

"London isn't doing it?"

"Cobb doesn't like being so close to France, and I've never seen your hair so messy, darling. Forget your comb?"

"See you tonight, Eames." he said, and closed the door.

"So if London isn't far enough, where are we going?" I asked as he came back in the room.

"The States. Pennsylvania." he said, setting the tickets on the dresser at the front of the room.

"Well if he wanted distance, you'd think he would pick something on the west coast, no?"

"He must have connections in Pennsylvania; somewhere we can go that isn't a hotel." he said, as he tried to smooth out his hair in the mirror. I slipped out of bed and went to wrap my arms around him from the side.

"That'll probably just get messed up again." I said, gazing at our reflection.

He smiled. "Oh, I wish. But if I remember correctly, you and I have some shopping to do."

_Screw shopping_, I thought, but then another thought dawned on me that was out of my mouth before I could stop it. "My breath can't smell good this early in the morning."

He shrugged. "Neither can mine. So it'll do us both good to get some shopping done."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. We'll go shopping. Then I need to eat."

He nodded and gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Then we can come back here." he muttered, kissing along my jaw.

"With clean teeth, a change of clothes and a full stomach."

"All you've wanted for the past few days." he teased lightly, nudging my side.

"No kidding." I said, while silently adding in my head, _Silly, all I really wanted was you.  
_

* * *

"Ready to go?" he asked.

We'd spent the past five hours weaving the streets of London, picking up necessities and desires. We'd all come here with nothing but ourselves, so a bit of shopping seemed to be in order.

I'd made a list, as short as I could make it, of all the things I would need to be on the run for the next few weeks. The first things to be checked off were things like hairbrush, toothbrush, soap and new bandages.

Then we spent an entire hour in a bookshop recommending novel after novel to each other. I had considered myself a somewhat avid reader, but I was nothing next to Arthur. We both ended up walking out of the shop with at least five new books, all ready to be devoured.

"Come on," he'd said, "I promise you, it's really good."

I'd stubbornly ignored the book he'd held out to me saying, "I've already read it."

"No you haven't."

"How do you know?"

"How does it end?"

I sighed, defeated. "I didn't finish it. The middle got too boring, so I quit."

He continued to hold out the book to me. "The ending is the best part. Getting through the middle is worth it."

"You can't tell me the ending?"

"You know that spoils all the fun."

I pursed my lips before saying, "Fine," and snatching the book from his grasp. He turned away with a triumphant smile on his face. I'd turned the book over in my hands, wondering what kind of ending this boring book had that would appeal to Arthur. Shrugging, I tucked it under my arm.

Now we were in a clothing boutique with multiple articles of clothing hanging over our arms. As payback for the book, I'd forced him into a single pair of jeans. I'd never seen him in anything other than dress pants; in the real world, at least. They flattered him nicely and it was clearly a wonder he didn't wear them more often.

"Just about." I said, returning to the present and set off in the direction of a flashy display of scarves. I didn't even have the infamous one that Phillips had gagged me with. My neck felt strangely exposed, walking around without the comfort of my scarves.

I ran my hands through the materials; silk, chiffon and plain old cotton. But whatever they were made of, they were all beautiful, definitely hand-made, and I had a difficult time choosing only one or two. I quickly found one with white and blue splashes of color that I intended to hold onto. The others were a hard choice.

"Which one?" I asked, holding up a silky lavender one and a chiffon one with multiple floral patterns.

He pursed his lips and held each of them up to my neck. "Both."

"Pick one."

"But they're both so pretty on you. Why not both?"

"You're the one who said we had to travel light."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, the lavender one. It goes well with your eyes."

"Lavender it is." I said, putting the other one back.

I paid for my new miniature wardrobe with one of the hundred dollar bills Eames had given me, ignoring the irritated look the cashier gave me. Needless to say, I walked out with a lot of change.

I loved how he casually slipped his hand into mine as we walked down the block, back towards the hotel. I'd always envied the girls I saw on the street with an arm around their shoulders or a hand in theirs or in their pocket.

Now, I was one of the envied. Here I was, in London, with my loving boyfriend who was smiling warmly at me. We were now walking, hand-in-hand, back from shopping all day to the hotel where we shared a room and, accidentally, a bed. And the sun was just starting to dip. The scene screamed bliss.

"What do you want to get to eat?" he asked, snapping me out of my moment.

"I don't know, I'm open to anything. Except bagels and salad, that is."

"Sick of those?"

I made a sheepish smile. "A little bit. But I'm fine with anything else."

"I know a café a few blocks from here. They've got the best french fries in Europe. Absolutely delicious."

"I'll take your word for it. How many times have you been to London?" I asked.

"What makes you think I've been here more than once?"

"_You_ have been everywhere more than once."

"I've never been to Chile."

I scoffed. "What? I'm shocked."

He laughed. "There's a lot of places I haven't been. And I've been to London three times before."

"What's your favorite place you've traveled?"

"Honestly? Paris. The city life suits me perfectly."

"Okay, second favorite. Paris doesn't count."

He chuckled. "I had a job in Vienna once. The part of the city I stayed in was quaint, but still had a bit of culture. I was sad to leave."

"Could we go sometime?"

"Sure. But we still have to make it to the Louvre, you know."

"That's true. I've always wanted to get a good look at the ceiling in the entry area. I've heard it's amazing."

"I guess someone like you would hear that," he said.

"Someone like me?"

"A young, bright, and enthusiastic architect student." he said, poking my ribs.

I squirmed away. "Empty flattery." I muttered.

He laughed. "What about you? Favorite place?"

"I don't think I've been around enough to have an opinion like yours. But I did go to Rome once. That was great."

"Why were you there?"

"Seventeenth birthday. It was my first time out of the U.S."

He nodded as we came to a crosswalk and placed a chaste kiss on my lips. "Exactly how fast of a learner are you?" he murmured.

"Pretty quick." I said, confused by his sudden question. "Why?"

"Time to learn counter surveillance. The guy behind us with the flannel shirt and sunglasses has been following us since the grocery store."

"Great." Way to ruin a perfectly beautiful day. I chanced a glance behind me and got a good look at the guy Arthur had described. He was currently about fifteen yards from us, walking towards us with a casual stride.

"Don't worry. We'll be fine, but you have to head towards the hotel while I go the long way around. Splitting up will confuse him and he can only follow one of us."

"There aren't more of him?"

"No, from what I can tell, he's alone."

"What if he follows me?"

"Never stop moving. Always be doing something. Looking in a store window, pretending to shop, walking. There's a chance he might lose track of you. Either way, get back to the hotel and tell Cobb what's going on."

"And if he follows you?"

"I'll be doing the same thing. I'll just be back to the hotel a little after you get there."

"And if you aren't back?"

He shook his head. "I'll be there. I lost you once and there's no way in hell I'm letting that happen again."

"Okay," I said, as the sign across the street signaled for me to walk. I squeezed his hand one last time before heading out onto the boulevard. I'd never been more reluctant in my life.

I did what he told me to. Occasionally ducking into shops and perusing through clothing and jewelry. I'd sneak a peek in a window's reflection to see whether or not the man was still following me. I made myself walk a full twenty steps in between each check. Longest twenty steps of my life. I didn't want to appear obviously paranoid. Every time I turned a corner, I half expected Phillips to be there waiting for me, scarf in hand.

He was on my tail for about two blocks before I discovered I couldn't see him anywhere. I went another block before concluding that he was no longer behind me.

Maybe he'd given up on me and went in search of Arthur? I half wished that to be true. Arthur definitely had more experience than me and the situation would be more controlled in his capable hands.

After three more nerve-wracking blocks, I made it back and up to Cobb's room. I heard some stumbling and scuffling before he opened the door.

"Hey," he said and glanced down at the bags in my hands. "Finished all that shopping already? That was fast."

"We had to cut it short since we were being followed." I said wryly.

His small grin quickly faded and he let out a slow exhale. "Not surprised." he said, opening the door wider to let me in. "How long were you followed?"

"Arthur said since the grocery store, so an hour and a half, maybe two hours. We split up ten minutes ago. He said he'd be back just after I did."

Cobb nodded as I realized that Yusuf, eyes trained on a test tube of a yellow liquid, was in the room and eyed two PASIVs sat on the bed.

"Experiments?" I asked, gesturing towards them. I was starkly reminded of the time I accidentally discovered what was really going on while Cobb ran 'experiments' every night by himself. From the look he gave me, I could tell he was too.

"Yeah, working on that sedative." he said evenly.

"Anything I can do?"

"Yes," said Yusuf, tinkering with one of the silver brief cases. "You can do a test run. I need someone other than Cobb to try it out."

I rolled up the sleeve of my new shirt. "Hook me up."

"I'll come with you," said Cobb, sitting down on the bed.

"You don't have to," I said, "You should stay up and wait for Arthur. Work something out when he gets back."

He shook his head. "I'll come with you."

I glanced at Yusuf, who could only answer me with shrug. Something was definitely off.

I gave Cobb a measuring stare before sitting down next to him and grabbing a needle. "Okay,"

"It's just a test run, so I'm only putting three minutes on the clock." said Yusuf. I didn't get a chance to say anything else before he punched in the button, sending us under. He was obviously very eager to see the results on this run.

I opened my eyes to a park. A very stereotypical one with lots of green grass and benches scattered here and there. There was a typical play ground with swings and slides. A light wind drifted through my hair and rustled the leaves of the multiple trees placed around me. I noted that the sidewalk that wound through the park would have the appearance of a labyrinth from a bird's-eye-view; albeit a very easily solve one, obviously made in a hurry.

"So you _can_ still build." I said to Cobb, who was seated on one of the benches near me.

He smiled. "Still got it in me."

I watched as a small girl with blonde pigtails ran past me toward the swing set, followed by another gaggle of little kids. I looked around to find the park more populated with projections than it had been a moment ago. Sounds of a perfect Sunday afternoon at the park started to fill my ears.

"Alright," I said, sitting next to him, "What's this really about? You don't go under with someone for no reason."

He squinted against the setting sun for a second longer before turning his gaze to me. "I just wanted to talk to you. I guess I feel kind of responsible to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"To be careful."

I let out a short laugh. "Eames beat you to that one a few weeks ago."

"Did he?" he shook his head wryly. "I'm not surprised."

"It's okay," I said, patting his shoulder, "I get it. I'll spare you this conversation."

He looked down for a moment. "No…no, if something happened and I hadn't said anything I'd feel…horrible. Just… don't do anything stupid like I did. You and Arthur are smart people, you shouldn't have an issue with it but…just tell me you'll be careful, okay?"

I smiled. I really loved Cobb. Not the way I loved Arthur, but in an almost fatherly, mentor-apprentice-like way. I could tell he'd always have my back. "I'll be careful."

He broke one of his rare smiles. "Thanks, Ariadne. I'm happy for you guys. It's good for Arthur to know someone cares."

"Anytime, Cobb."

* * *

"Feeling dizzy? Nauseous? Faint? Anything other than normal?" Yusuf bombarded me with questions the second I woke up, a clipboard and pen in hand.

I stood up and walked around for a moment. "Slightly off balance." I said, feeling like I'd just come off from a really long flight and I was trying to get feeling back in my legs.

"That's funny," he said, flipping through the multiple papers he had clipped to his board. "Cobb, you never felt that."

"Did you give me the same dose you usually give him?" I asked, sitting next to Yusuf to look at the collection of notes and charts. He had impeccable handwriting.

"Yes," he said slowly, running his finger down one of the charts. "I did. Maybe it was too strong?"

"Maybe. We could try again and lower the dosage."

He nodded and made another mark on the chart with his dulling pencil. "Give me one second." He got up and started fiddling with the PASIV again.

_Knock, knock._

"That's probably Arthur." I said as Cobb got up to answer it. He looked once in the peephole before opening it.

"I think we should get an earlier flight." Arthur said, as he came into the room.

"Is it that bad?" Cobb asked.

"I couldn't lose him. He followed me all the way up to the hotel. I wouldn't be surprised if he's down in the lobby waiting for us to leave again."

Yusuf had stopped to listen to their conversations. "Is it hiding you're worried about?" he asked.

"Yeah, if we can stay hidden from them until five when we can get out of here, we should be fine. But they know we're in this hotel. We have to move."

"Just go to the airport now. There's lots of people and we probably have a better chance of losing the tail in the crowd. We'll wait it out there."

Arthur nodded. "We'll start packing."

I looked to Yusuf with an apologetic expression. "We'll have to try that dosage later."

He nodded, trying to conceal his disappointment unsuccessfully. "Alright, we'll try it whenever we get to wherever we're going."

I smiled, picked up my shopping bags and went to join Arthur in the hallway.

"It's really bad isn't it?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "I've seen worse, but this is pretty bad. I don't know how they could've found us. We used aliases and everything."

"I have an alias?"

"Not a very good one. I had to create it on the fly. Maybe that's how they tracked us…maybe they saw through the weak identity." His expression formed into something on the border of frustration and pain.

I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly as I took out the key card. "We'll make a better one next time. Out of curiosity," I say as I open the door, "what was my alias' name?"

"Aria Bishop," said a voice from inside. The voice was deadly familiar and as I processed who it belonged to, my heart and breathing stopped.

"The Aria part was easy to spot, but I'm not entirely sure where Bishop came from." said Phillips as he stood up casually from our bed, flashing the gun held loosely in his hand. "Random probably." Or not.

I stole a quick glance at Arthur, whose frustration had transformed into an unreadable business-like mask of concealment. I could tell he was calculating our options and chances and what the odds were. Phillips gestured for us to come inside. How did he always manage to get into places that were locked? I took a hesitant step forward as Arthur strode more confidently into the room.

I felt prickles of fear creep up my neck as the back of my mind registered the familiarity of the situation. It was exactly like my nightmares. Phillips had found us and, as far as I could tell, we were stuck. I wanted to pull out my totem, but I didn't dare do that in front of Phillips.

He gave us each a wry smile as he flipped open a phone and began to dial a few numbers. "I see they did a good job of chasing you back here. Why don't you two have a seat while I tell your ride you're here?"

I told my feet to move, but they wouldn't. They were frozen on the ground in shock and fear and a mix of disbelief. What were the _odds_?

Sensing my immobileness, Arthur towed me to the far bed and kneeled down in front of me as Phillips began to bark orders into his phone. I stared blankly back at him. I knew he could tell what was going on in my head. The terrifying, tear-inducing nightmares were coming to life.

"What happens now?" I whisper, careful with my voice as not to let it crack.

He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What happens when the projections catch you and you can't wake up."

He looked up at me, probably expecting me to completely shut down or gasp in shock. But my expression stayed the same. I knew the answer before I'd asked the question. I'd seen it happen in my sleep too many times.

"What about Cobb…and James and Phillipa…and Yusuf…and Eames? ...What about them?"

He glanced at Phillips who currently the very definition of smug. "I think it's just you he wants. I'm here by default."

I suppressed a groan. Great. Here by default. This was my fault. Something told me that that wasn't quite true, but that was all that my mind could accept right now. And if it kept my head above the water, I'd take the blame.

My eyes were trained on the floor. "Ariadne," he whispered and I looked up to meet his gaze. He stared pointedly at the drawer next to our bed. I peeked at the bland piece of furniture, simple enough. His eyes came back to mine, asking for my understanding. I gave a small nod before the sound of Phillips' phone being snapped shut bounced irritatingly off the walls, filling the grim silence. A small part of me regained feeling as I realized that something hopeful might lie in that drawer. I didn't dare hope it was a way out. I more expected it to be something that would delay our captor. The trick was getting to it before Phillips saw me.

"You," he said, pointing a finger at Arthur, "With me."

_No_. He was separating us. No. I watched numbly as Arthur stood up from his place on the floor and gave me one last pleading look before dignifiedly marching over to where Phillips stood.

"You'll be a good girl and stay right there, won't you _Aria_?" he asked, bringing the point of the gun to rest between Arthur's shoulder blades. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. I stayed silent and gave him the defiant stare that he was probably used to by now. _Turn around, turn around_, I thought.

He shook his head and laughed wryly before roughly tugging Arthur forward. I waited until I heard the door click shut behind them before I sprang up from the bed, adrenaline flooding my system, overriding any other emotion.

I yanked the drawer open, revealing its contents: A single, sleek, loaded gun, a silencer attached on the end.

I snatched it from out of the drawer, not caring that I'd never handled one of these in real life. Throwing the door open, I stepped out into the hall and trained my gaze on the pair of men walking toward the elevator.

"Hey Phillips!" I called, holding the gun out and aiming. He turned in shock, keeping his own gun in place at Arthur's back.

"What _do_ you think you're doing?" he asked cockily, still thinking he had the upper-hand.

I started to walk forward confidently, planting one foot in front of the other, aided by the calm, encouraging look on Arthur's face. I anchored my feet about two yards from them, not wanting to miss my one shot and smiled.

"I just had one question." Phillips was too focused on me to notice the small nod I saw Arthur give me and I knew I was doing okay. "I was just curious why you went to all this trouble to find us again. You must've exhausted all your resources to do that, extraction teams can't be easy to find. Especially this one. I'm sure there's a lot of time and effort involved in finding people who were trained to disappear for years. You found us so quickly that you must owe people favors now. But that doesn't matter now, since you're probably so pleased with yourself." I said, distracting his focus further from Arthur. Who knew that rambling could be a useful survival skill? The wearier he became of me, the less of a grip he had on my boyfriend. "And now you have us, but you're missing something."

"And what would that be?"

I had his full attention. I wrapped my finger around the trigger. "Where's my scarf?"

At that instant, Arthur broke loose, turning around and shoving Phillips forward with all of his body weight. I watched him fall and he was dead before he hit the ground. My finger responded before the rest of me did. With a heavy thud, Phillips was lying in a pool of his own blood.

I stared at him for a moment, lifeless. I waited for guilt or sympathy to transpire in my mind, but it never did. I didn't feel relief or triumph or liberation. I wasn't even numb. I was completely tranquil and calm to the core. My breathing came even, even though my heart was pounding a rapid rhythm in my ears. There was no echoing gunshot because of the silencer, which had considerably dulled the noise. He'd gone down without a sound.

As Arthur started to walk toward me, I started to feel a wave building up somewhere underneath my heart. It gathered all the fear I'd felt, all the terrorizing nightmares, and various memories of that lonely van as it swept up and through me. I could feel its force as it tried to push the moisture on the edges of my eyes over the brim. I tried to hold it at bay as he collectedly took the gun from my hand, holding it in his own.

_No, no, no._ I thought. _No crying. You can't cry, Ariadne. You're going to have to deal with stuff like this now, remember? You can't breakdown like this. That won't help anything. Don't do it. Don't cry. _

I could've stood there for seconds or hours or days, fighting my way toward a state as cool and serene as his. I didn't mind the lack of speech between us. I wasn't sure I could trust my voice right now, and there wasn't much to be said anyway. Sensing my need for a distraction, he slowly towed me towards Cobb's room.

"We have a problem." he said, as Cobb pulled his door open. He gestured behind us to Phillips body on the floor.

Cobb stared in disbelief at the floor for a moment before calling to Yusuf, who was still in the room. "Yusuf, I need some gloves."

Yusuf hurried to the front of the room, sensing Cobb's urgent tone and handed him the stretchy, plastic gloves. He gave a small gasp at the sight on the floor. "Holy…" he said, trailing off.

"You and Eames get to the airport immediately. Take my bag with you. We'll meet you there." Cobb said and Yusuf mumbled an agreement as he stumbled his way out of the room.

"Ariadne, grab your stuff." he turned to Arthur. "Let's take care of that."

"One second," I said, walking out to Phillips body. I knelt down and curtly lifted him up by the collar of his shirt, jerking his lifeless body up.

"Ariadne…" said Cobb from behind me.

His eyes were closed, but his features remained in the same arrogant form they were always in. _Even in death_, I thought. I couldn't help the sadistic smirk that spread across my face as I gave him a good whack across the face, just as he had done to me so many times before. The resounding _smack_ echoed across the vacant hallway.

There. That was the sound he went down with. It was much more satisfying than a gunshot.

Arthur knelt down next to me and took one of his shoulders. "Here, let us deal with him. Go get our stuff." he said. There was an unmistakable grin across his face.

"Okay," I said, standing up. Cobb gave me a weary look before chuckling wryly. "Bastard had it coming." he said.

"Yes he did." I turned on my heel and headed back towards our room. Once inside, I gathered all of our things together and doubled checked my bishop in my pocket. My inquisitiveness led me to rummage through the room to see if Arthur had planted any other guns or things of that sort in the room. I couldn't find any.

I gave our bed one last wistful look. I tried to memorize the exact way the sheets were thrown back and the sheet was rumpled from where we had laid together. I delighted in the fact that it was one big rumpled spot, not two separate ones. I focused on how deep the pillows were pushed in on themselves, committing the imprint to memory. It was a minute or two before I could tear myself away.

I walked back out into the hall to find the body gone. I didn't want to know where it had gone, so I didn't ask. Nothing but the blood stain left any evidence that the entire ordeal had happened. But even that was hard to detect with the elaborate pattern on the carpet.

"Let's move," said Cobb as the elevator dinged, and the arrow pointing down illuminated.

"Where to?" I asked as Arthur took one of the bags from my hands.

"To Pennsylvania to cover our tracks," said Cobb as we entered the elevator.

"And then?"

Arthur leaned in to kiss my hair. "Home."

A/N: Please review….pretty, pretty please?

So if you don't know by now, you need to know that Inception is nominated in multiple categories for the MTV movie awards! Our favorite kiss is up there! And not to mention the wonderful "You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bit bigger, darling." line. (Did you know the 'darling' part wasn't in the original script? Yeah. Who knew, right? Where would we be without it?) So head over to there and vote! (And if I'm right, you can vote multiple times…please tell me if I'm wrong on that) The link is on my profile.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: So, this is the last chapter…Gosh, it feels so weird to type that. It feels even weirder to click the 'complete' button on this! Eeekk! I had to do some homework for this one to get the facts right, which was kind of fun. Learned some new things. So (for the last time) here it goes! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Don't own Inception. Doesn't mean I don't wish I did. But I still don't.

"Who built the Jubilee Church?"

"Richard Meier."

"Good. Where is that church located?"

"Rome, Italy."

"Correct. Who was L'Eplattenier? I'm not sure I pronounced that right."

"You did okay. He was Le Corbusier's teacher, who believed him to be a remarkable student."

"Was he?"

"I don't know. That's what the text book said."

"Alright. What famous structure did Aldo Rossi design?"

We shifted our weight as he put his feet up on the coffee table in front of us and I shifted my head to his lap. My feet ended up on the other arm of the couch, crossed at the ankles. I gazed up at him as he started to tug at and play with my hair with the hand that wasn't holding my study guide. I leaned into his touch; I loved it when he did that.

"Um, that was the Cathedrale de Brasilia, right?"

"Wrong. It was the San Cataldo Cemetery."

"Dang it. San Cataldo, San Cataldo. Okay, next."

"Last one. What is so special about the China Central Television Headquarters?"

"It's two towers literally leaning diagonally towards each other and joined at the top. Do you think the elevators go up it diagonally?"

He shrugged, putting down the sheet of paper, marked up with all my scribbled notes and reminders in highlighter, pencil and red pen. If the roles were reversed and I was Point Woman, that was probably how my research notes would look; a sharp contrast to his precise, neatly penned notes. It was a wonder he could read any of it.

I always loved these little study sessions we had during the pressure-inducing nights before I had a big test. He was a good, meticulous tutor who knew next to nothing about architecture, but wasn't half bad at physics. He, wisely, wouldn't let me off the couch until I knew the material inside and out, and backwards and forwards. I learned that from experience and the blithe memory made me smile.

"They must. Do you feel good about all this?" he asked, gesturing to the sheet of paper.

I nodded. "I think I'll do fine. It's nothing too complicated; just simple prolific facts."

He looked at the sheet with a curiosity, turning it over to glance at the backside for a moment. "Does it bother you?"

"What?"

"Just designing for dreams and not designing anything…real or solid? Do you feel like you're missing out?"

I pursed my lips, pausing to gather my response. "Only a little. I remember when I discovered architecture. It had so many opportunities. You could design anything from a home to a hotel to a theater. But that's all they've got. The 'real' architects, that is. And it takes years for any of their works to be real. So I like to think I've got something better. I can design without limit or restriction and it can be created in an instant. No waiting. Even if it only exists for a while in my dreams, it serves it purpose and it's _there_."

He looked at me. "You've given that a lot of thought, haven't you?"

"I did. After I accepted Cobb's second job offer. After spending a couple years of your life thinking that you'll be sketching blue prints and consulting contractors and finding people who want your work made, it's a big change to suddenly have things much simpler."

"You think it's simpler?"

"Much. Get the assignment, sketch it, model it, teach it, dream it, repeat." A short laugh escaped my lips. "I think I like this much better."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, good."

"Trust me, Arthur, if I didn't want this, I never would have come back and I would be _long_ gone by now."

"This is what you want?" he looked at me with an intensity that only he had the capability to. Both of us knew how loaded the question was. Loaded with the figurative equivalent of gunpowder and explosives.

It was definitely a new life-style choice; that much was obvious. The precarious life of a criminal, which brought risk, periods of being on the run and making enemies. My record was pretty clean for now, but I could practically feel the dirt coming onto my hands.

But it meant being with people who I'd come to trust, admire and love. It meant pure creation and making things being worth the shot that was taken. Even if I wanted to turn and run the other way, it wasn't likely that I could. I was in far too deep.

Thank goodness I didn't want to run away from any of it. "This is what I want."

"What if you didn't? What if you never came back? Would you still stay with me?" he asked, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen into my face.

I'd asked my share of difficult questions. I guess this was karma giving me a hard question to answer.

"Would our paths have crossed again if I didn't?" I hedged.

He shrugged. "Say they did."

I took his hand and intertwined his fingers with mine. And looking him dead in the eye, I said, "Yes, I would."

He smiled and bent to kiss my forehead and I could feel his warm breath on my face.

Against my will, my stomach growled loudly, demanding to be fed as I grimaced down at it in annoyance.

"Hungry?" he laughed, placing a hand on my stomach.

Too content to move an inch from where I was, and legitimately not in the mood for food, I said, "Nope, my stomach is just acting up."

"Liar. It's eleven thirty," he said, glancing at his watch. "I'm surprised I haven't been hearing your stomach grumble all night."

"I'm not hungry," I said, stretching and making myself more comfortable, fully prepared to fall asleep here.

"Okay, maybe you aren't, but I am. And if I remember correctly, there are left-overs in the fridge?"

"Mm-hm." I closed my eyes as his hands continued to weave through my hair, making my lips turn up in a smile.

"You know, I have to get off the couch to get to the kitchen."

"Hmm. Not sure I can let you do that."

"You sure about that?" he asked, his hand returning to my stomach.

"You wouldn't." I said, starting him straight in the eye.

"Wanna bet?" he said with a smile and mischievous glint in his eye as the tickle attack began.

"Arthur!" I squealed, laughing and squirming every which way, trying to pry his relentless hands away. I cringed inward on my stomach, slowly curling myself up, off his legs. "Stop!" I begged, tears of hysterics forming in my eyes. "Please!" I gasped through fits of laughter. "Okay, okay," I said, weakly holding my shaking hands up in surrender. "Go get your food."

He finally let up and grinned in satisfaction. "That's better." he said, getting up, leaving me on the couch to catch my breath.

"I hate you," I said, clutching my stomach.

"That's too bad," he said from the kitchen, inserting his plate of food into the microwave. "Because I love you."

I got up from my place on the couch and walked over to the kitchen, leaning against the counter as I stifled a yawn. The microwave dinged and he took his food out, stirring it as the steam rose off of it. The enticing smell of food made my stomach gurgle again.

"Here," he said, opening the drawer next to him and holding out another fork out to me. "Have a bite of mine."

"No," I said groggily. "I'm fine, really. Any word from Cobb?"

He shook his head. "No, it's pretty quiet right now. But he said he's keeping his ears open."

I nodded. We'd had one more job since we returned from the States. It was simple. A wealthy husband had suspected his wife of cheating. She wasn't, luckily. No one was kidnapped or lost in Limbo and we all got paid our share. I realized that without knowing it, I'd fallen into the simple pattern that being part of an extraction team presented. I was content with it.

And although the pattern had become part of me, there was still a game to all of it. Designing a strategy to attain the data we were being paid to get, making sure each level was played out correctly bit by bit. The thrill of it was kept fresh by the daring challenge of it all.

And all these little games contributed to the larger game for mine, the love game. Through each one, the dreams seem to pull us closer and closer together, no matter how large a maze I created. The surreal air of the dream space seemed to push and draw us towards each other, whether we realized it or not.

I took each chance to go under with him while keeping my promise to Cobb to be careful. On occasion, I'd pass up the opportunity in an effort to not become addicted to the machine. That concern was my own paranoia, so I consoled it by telling myself to look at how long Eames had been in the business and the fact that he wasn't permanently hooked to the silver brief case.

In any case, I loved teaching Arthur the dreams. I never got tired of his praise for my creativity and use of technique.

"Good. Well, I'm going to climb in bed; Get a decent amount of sleep before the exam."

He nodded. "I'll meet you there."

I walked to the bathroom, brushing my teeth and washing my face with warm water. I opened my closet and picked out an outfit for the next day with a coordinating scarf. I changed into pajamas (a heavily used T-shirt and sweat pants) and slid into bed, leaving only the lamp beside the bed on.

I closed my eyes and unleashed my mind, letting it wander until it found its way to the border of asleep and awake. It stubbornly chose to linger there instead of crossing over to the unconscious side. A few minutes later, the lamp switched off, and I felt the other side of the bed dip down as he caressed the top of my head. Abandoning my mind's position of being almost asleep, I rolled over to face him, snuggling closer to him, and burying my face in his chest. Because I could. Because he was mine to love.

I closed my eyes and tried to force my mind back to the border. Instead of going straight there, it chose to revisit a distant memory.

_Do you know what it is to be a lover?_ Mal's voice floated back to my head. At the time, I had come up blank and all I could say was a confused, breathless, "No,"

_Ask me again, Mal. Ask me _one_ more time_, I wanted to say. _Because now I can understand. I can know what it's like. I _am_ a lover._

* * *

"Thank you, Professor Miles," I said, dropping my papers in to the box on his desk.

"Have a good afternoon, Ariadne." he said, taking off his reading glasses as he picked up the stack of papers that piled well over the top of the wire box.

"I will," I smiled. I hiked my bag higher up on my shoulder as I exited the double doors that led out to the parking lot and beyond that, the street that led home.

I turned right, preparing to make my usual trek home on foot, when a familiar flashy car caught my peripheral vision. A car way too flashy to be owned by any student I knew.

Shaking my head, I walked over to it and opened the passenger side door, sliding in.

"Would you like a ride?" A sun-glass wearing Arthur asked, putting the car in reverse.

"A ride _home_?"

"Nope. Today, we're going somewhere else."

"Where?"

He smiled. "Can't tell you that."

"Alright, then." I said, putting my bag down by my feet. "Surprise me."

* * *

"Please?" he begged for the millionth time since we'd been in the west wing.

"Just a little longer. Almost done, I promise."

"Right." he scoffed.

"What? You don't believe me?"

"Nope. But now I know for future reference what it's like when I take you these places."

"Sorry," I apologized, fixatedly studying an alluring water color painting. "They're just so…pretty and fascinating. I mean, think of the amount of time put into these. Hours and hours dedicated to all these little brush strokes."

He put his hands on his knees, letting out a breath. "How are you still going?"

"We've only been here for-" I glanced down at my watch and faltered, at a loss for words.

"Four and a half hours." he finished for me, grinning slightly. "I've been counting."

"You would. And time flies." I managed to get out through my surprise.

"When you're exploring one of the largest art collections in the world."

"We're only on the first floor," I said as I moved to the next masterpiece painting. Each brush stroke and little splotch of color had my full and complete attention.

"This place is huge," he said, stating the obvious. "Look, let's just sit down for five minutes. Then we can keep going."

"Okay. I'll just finish up this corridor."

Countless beautiful landscapes lined the walls, painted by various ancient artists from Britain, France and Germany. Each one unique and special it itself. Each one was a classic, beautifully preserved, awing masterpiece of some artist or another. It had an overwhelming effect on me to be in the presence of such stunning art work.

Just when I thought I'd found my favorite, I came across another piece of sheer art that topped it. Although my current favorite was the stunning, masterful portrait of Madame Récamier, the lifelike image of Cupid and Psyche's kiss relentlessly haunted the back of my mind. From the perfect curve of each of their arms to how his marble wings seemed to stretch forever, it all took my breath away.

"Come on," he said, as we reached the end of the hall and he softly took hold of my elbow, pulling me towards a bench on the opposite wall.

"Is it just me, or do you feel kind of dazed too?" I asked, glancing around me, not wanting to let a single, miniscule detail escape my vision.

He shook his head. "You must be star-stuck."

"I think I am… There's so much to take in. It's a very aweing emotion."

That made him chuckle. "You _are_ innocent."

I lightly punched him in the shoulder. "Only to a certain degree."

"Why don't you sit down before you faint from overwhelmedness?" he asked as he collapsed onto the bench, letting out a huff of breath.

"Ha, ha." I said dryly and sat on the cool stone next to him. My legs relaxed, thanking me for the momentary break.

I tapped his shin with my foot. "I told you those look good on you."

He glanced down at the pair of dark jeans he had on. The same ones I'd forced him into in London. Since then, he'd bought another pair on his own and Eames would probably never let him hear the last of it.

He shrugged. "They grew on me."

I smiled. "Good, that was the point."

The sight of the jeans gave me a small hint of nostalgia in the corner of my mind.

We'd made it to Pennsylvania without trouble, but not without constantly looking over our shoulders. I trusted Arthur and Cobb to take care of Mathews' body in a way so we wouldn't be caught, but I still didn't allow myself to ask them exactly what they did. I didn't want to picture him in my mind anymore; I was sick of that.

After landing in the airport in the States, Mathews' was on the front page of every newspaper in sight and every television screen that played the morning news. I found myself looking at the various generic tile patterns on the floor until we were out and in a stolen car. A nice stolen car that fit all of us and still left leg room.

We stayed there for two weeks, laying low, hardly leaving the safe house that we temporarily called home. We took turns going out for good, whether it be take out or groceries. It was over the course of these two weeks that we learned Yusuf wasn't bad when handling ingredients for…well, anything. Whenever he allowed us to push him into the kitchen, dinner was a special treat not to be taken for granted.

Somewhere along the line, Eames produced a deck of cards, and card games became a common pass time, whether it be gambling or Go Fish. The most entertaining games were those when Arthur and Eames were constantly trying to call each other's bluffs because they were both experts. Cobb didn't bluff often, Yusuf didn't bluff period, and I never played the gambling games. I preferred to look over everyone's shoulder to see which cards were out of the deck. At some point, the deck was used to make an intricate house of cards that I worked on over a period of hours.

Eames gave us minimal grief for sharing a room even though the farthest we allowed ourselves were heated, passionate kisses. It was partially because we weren't alone in the house, but it was a great comfort to me that he was just as comfortable with taking things slow just like I was. I didn't want to rush anything. We had no need to and I was almost scared that it would fly by too quickly. We had all the time in the world. I knew that he agreed that it was enough to luxuriate in the small moments, however small they be. Because they were luxuries.

The nightmares tended to make regular appearances in my dreams, which is why sharing a room came to be very convenient. I'd usually wake up, half-panicked and grasping blindly in the dark for my totem that had picked up residence on the floor next to our bed. Only after I'd heard the reassuring clank of metal would I feel a warm hand on my shoulder slowly coaxing me to lie back down. After only two minutes of his fingers tracing circles on my back, I was silently lulled back to sleep.

When we touched down in Paris, Cobb was out the door before you could say 'extraction'. It had been apparent that he went through a rough withdrawal of sorts from his children in the States. I felt guilty and tried not to blame myself too much, suppressing feelings of fault.

Eames immediately bought another ticket, telling the remainder of us that he was headed down South to Africa. Morocco, more specifically.

"Got to tie up some loose ends." he'd said.

"Just tying up loose ends?" I asked, an edge of hope in my voice. I didn't want this to be the last time I saw of him. It couldn't be.

He'd looked back at me from the ticket counter. "It's not good-bye, sweet heart." he said, seeing the unassured look on my face. "You'll see me again."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Because if you thought you were walking away now, you are sadly mistaken."

He'd given a light-hearted chuckle. "No, I'll be back. Cobb is always in need of a top-notch forger. He won't hesitate to call me when the next job comes." he said, and shook Arthur's hand as he picked up his suit case. "Besides, I'd say were a bit of a package deal by now, no?" I'd grinned broadly in response.

He shook hands with Yusuf and had given me a peck on the cheek. "Keep an eye on Arthur for me, will you?" he'd asked.

"Of course," I said and with a final, Eames-esque nod, he was off into the crowd.

"And you," I said, turning to Yusuf who was in the process of purchasing another ticket, "Where are you off to?"

"Home. And I'm sure you'll alert me when your somnacin supply runs out."

"We will." said Arthur, and with another nod and another handshake, he too started for his terminal.

"So I guess that leaves us," he said, watching Yusuf's retreating figure.

"I'm guessing you made a hotel reservation somewhere around here?"

He put a hand to his forehead in fake frustration. "I must've forgotten," he said.

I laughed. "Right, you, Arthur, Point Man and Mr. Always-Has-A-Plan forgot to set up a place to stay."

"Maybe I could stay the night with you? Just one night." he asked, teasing as his hand tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear.

"If I didn't know you, I'd say that was suave. Except there's no such thing as you 'forgetting.' I didn't know that word was in your vocabulary."

"Learn something new every day. Is that a yes?"

I reached up on the tips of my toes to kiss his nose. "Only because you help keep the dreams away."

"I'll be here till they're gone." he said as we walked to hail a cab.

"And after that?"

"I guess I'll stick around." he smiled.

I'd rolled my eyes. "You better."

Over the next few weeks, we'd developed a pattern. We'd had one before I'd been kidnapped, and this one was similar but had a few exceptions.

He stayed the night. He didn't used to before. He kept the nightmares away until I didn't have them anymore. It was the best feeling to wake up in the morning with his hand still on the small of my back and only remember visions of snow and something pink and not Arthur's dead body lying in his own blood. Even after they disappeared he stayed to hold me in his arms until the sun came back up, just as he said he would.

"I don't have anywhere better to be," he'd said.

I'd leave in the morning for classes, right after I'd kissed his sleepy head good-bye. He usually hadn't even gotten out of bed yet, not that he wasn't awake. Sometimes he wasn't and I'd leave him to sleep as I slipped out the front door quietly.

I'd come home to an empty apartment. Or at least it would be empty for a few hours while I worked on essays, projects, blue prints, physics equations and what not. He'd come back around nine and I'd recount the day's events to him as he listened attentively.

Dinner was never known ahead of time. Sometimes he'd surprise me by bringing dinner with him. Other times he'd watch me as I worked my mediocre food preparation skills in the kitchen. We only had to call in pizza once after an incident with burnt bread and under cooked spaghetti. And then there was the rare occasion when I would change my outfit and we'd go out to eat. Those nights were among my favorites because it was when we would be a normal couple out on a date, getting to know each other that much better.

Sure, his tooth brush had appeared next to my bathroom sink just a few days ago, but we weren't officially 'living together'. He still had his hotel room to go back to during the day. Neither one of us had brought it up, probably just too comfortable with our current routine.

"I saw that book sitting on your bed." he said, bringing me back to the present as he smirked.

"Oh, yeah, I finally finished it. You were right! I can't believe the author ended it like that!"

"Pretty nice twist at the end there, huh?"

"I didn't even see that coming till I read it."

He laughed. "Told you it was good."

"Yeah you did." I sighed. "Why were you here before?"

He smiled. "Gosh, that was a while ago. I don't think I'd even met Eames yet. I was here with our architect while he sketched the top floor. As a supervisor, I guess."

"Whoa!" I said, hardly able to comprehend the demands of _that_ job. "He had to recreate the _entire_ top floor, detail for detail?" I asked, my voice getting higher by the end of the sentence.

"He did. Took him a long time too."

"I'll bet. What was the job?"

"A supposed curator of one of the artifacts up there was suspected of identity theft. It was actually the museum that hired us to see whether or not he was who he said he was."

"Was he?"

"Nope. He'd been faking his identity for six years after he killed the guy whose identity he stole."

I opened my mouth to respond, but was cut off by a shrill ringing coming from his pocket. He pulled his phone half way out of his pocket, looking at the caller ID. He looked at me apologetically.

I snickered. "Answering a call on a date?" I teased.

"It's Cobb."

I waved my hand dismissively. "Pick it up."

He hit a button and pressed the phone to his ear as I occupied myself with examining a painting from a distance. I slipped my hand in my pocket and idly played with my golden bishop.

"We're not at home right now." Part of me noted that he said 'home' and not 'her apartment' or 'my hotel room'. He said 'home'. I wanted him to say it again.

"Yes, she's right here…Yeah…" he gave a light chuckle, "I hope we gave him enough time to tie up his loose ends," a content smile spread across his face. "I should be able to…Mm-hm…Okay, see you then."

"Another job?"

He nodded. "Meet tomorrow at four."

"I'll meet you there. I can walk there from the college."

He didn't protest, which I was grateful for, and stood up, extending his hand as he smiled. "One more floor?"

"Only one?"

"Don't tell me Professor Miles let you off the hook for homework tonight."

I groaned. "No, he's relentless. But the good kind of relentless." I sighed. "I forgot about that. I guess one floor is all I can afford for tonight."

He smiled. "Don't worry. We'll come back another time and pick up where we leave off."

I took his hand and stood up. "Good. I want to come back here with you. You should wear better walking shoes next time."

He laughed. "Duly noted."

I took his hand, already tracing mazes in my head for this next little game. I wondered in my head what this little game would do for our love game, how many times we would spin, flip, tip, or toss our totems, how we would play our luck and skill, and how close the dream space would press the dreamers.

A/N: Now I'm gonna be sad all week 'cause this is over, dang it. But I have a couple one shots in mind that I'll get started on. Can't live without my Inception-crack, ya know?

Pretty, pretty please with a cherry on top, leave a review! It would make my Love-Game-Writing withdrawal a lot easier!

Thank you to all who stayed with this all the way through! It really means a lot to me! I can't tell you how much you guys rock. There aren't enough words in the languages I speak to tell you how fabulous you are!


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